In the Shadows of Utopia
by DeusPascitCorvos
Summary: The year is 2023. As the Organisation's grip on the world tightens, Makise Kurisu finds herself caught up amongst the men and women who are freedom's last hope: Operation Valkyrie.
1. Chapter 1

Title: In the Shadows of Utopia

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, I'd be charging for it. I'm not overly generous ;)

Summary: The year is 2023. As the Organisation's grip on the world tightens, Makise Kurisu finds herself caught up amongst the men and women who are freedom's last hope: Operation Valkyrie.

* * *

This is a story about a world wracked by peace. Slipping into resting state. A long dream from which there will be no awakening. This is a story about tyrants and the fools who fought them, and it is not a happy story, because that would be a lie.

This is a story about Operation Valkyrie. About brave men and women who fought against the inevitable and never once gave in. So perhaps it isn't a sad story either.

"_We are the Valkyrie. We fight for chaos. We fight for freedom. Our blood is spilled for the future."_—First line of the Valkyrie creed.

* * *

**Akihabara, 2023**

Makise Kurisu fled through the crumbling streets of Tokyo. Her pursuers were still a little way back, which was good, and her stamina was holding out, which was better. She wasn't naïve enough to imagine she could actually escape, but she'd make the bastards work for it. Every minute spent free was a spit in the eye to those who hunted her, a little longer with cold wind on her face and burning in her thighs. This was nearly the furthest she'd ever got.

Previously, of course, she'd been too valuable to shoot down. The _crack _of gunfire split the air as one of her erstwhile captors came within sight of her and she yelped involuntarily as the bullet ricocheted off the old tarmac, driving her sideways into an alley filled with derelict electronics stalls. A flash of metal caught her eye and she grabbed one of the component trays without slowing down. The chips and wire-ends scraped and cut at her hands but the prize she came away with was worth it: a rusty but still wickedly sharp pair of wire-cutters. They wouldn't be much use unless she could get the drop on someone but if nothing else, having a weapon made her feel a little bit better.

Reaching the end of the alley, Kurisu turned right and bolted for the next, a block up on the same side of the road. Doubling back might give her a chance of losing them. Then maybe, just maybe, she could get to the edge of the city without being spotted. A hacking cough was her only warning of danger ahead; she skidded to a stop halfway down the alley.

'Shut up or I'll shut you up,' said a gruff voice from beyond the alley's end. 'She'll be here any second.' The unfortunate soldier's reply was drowned out by the tide of her own helpless, impotent fury. Idiot! How could she have let herself hope, even for a second? Nobody got away. Not when they wanted you dead. She of all people should know: you can't outrun a damn time machine!

The scrape of rubble shifting under someone's foot was the only thing that alerted her to the person who'd crept up behind her. Her gasp of horror died stillborn as a strong hand covered her mouth and pinched her nose shut. Kurisu growled soundlessly and thrust backwards with an elbow, impacting flesh with a meaty _thud_ but before she could bring her makeshift weapon to bear, an arm wrapped around her midriff and pinned hers to her sides. Caught as she was, she struggled as best she could but her ears were ringing and grey blankness was rapidly intruding from the edges of her vision. Kurisu convulsed once more and blacked out.

* * *

The first thing she noticed when she came to was the pain in her middle. It took her a few moments to figure it out; she was draped across her assailant's shoulder and with every step they took her stomach bumped painfully against their collarbone even as her face flopped against their backside. The second thing she noticed was that she couldn't see a damn thing: her eyes were still shut. Not that opening them helped; her surroundings were pitch-black anyway. Wherever she was, it was dark, cold and a little moist. A sewer, maybe. The third and final thing she noticed was that she had been kidnapped. Again.

Her legs were being held tight and her arms felt weak and noodly, so she took the pragmatic option and bit down as hard as she could.

'GA—' Her captor muffled the scream but the shock loosened their grip on her legs just enough for her to kick free and roll off their shoulder. She still couldn't see them but that didn't matter because at that moment she realised a fourth thing: anyone from SERN would simply have shot her dead. Whoever this person was, they were—

'—I'm on your side, idiot!' a male voice hissed. 'Are you rabid or simply psychotic?'

'S-sure, you nearly strangled me so _obviously_ you're on my side. How on earth could I misjudge such noble actions?' she hissed right back at her, well, her... Rescuer. Damn. 'Sorry,' she muttered.

She heard a shuffling in the dark and then warm breath tickled her ear. 'Look, I'm pretty sure some of these tunnels are bugged,' he whispered. 'Can we leave the tsundere routine for when we've actually escaped?'

_I am _not _tsundere_, she thought venomously, and bit her lip to keep it in. She hadn't had a proper shout in more than a decade; yelling at the dead-eyed zombies and blank-faced executives she'd been permitted to interact with was nothing more than a waste of breath.

'Then let's escape, shall we?' she whispered instead, groping for the man's hand and taking it in hers. 'Makise Kurisu. Nice to meet you.'

'...Okabe Rintarou, and it's my pleasure.'

She couldn't quite seem to let his hand go again. Strange; the forced isolation must have had a stronger effect than she thought. In any case, after thirteen years without a single friendly human touch she couldn't bring herself to lose this one just yet. Besides, she told herself, there's no other way to keep track of someone in the total absence of light. She tugged impatiently and he got the message.

'Tread lightly and whatever you do, stay quiet from here on,' he warned her. 'It's quite a way to the edge of the city.'

She rolled her blind eyes and tugged again. With that, they began the long trek out of the city and Kurisu Makise took her first steps into a brave new world.

* * *

After what she judged, without any real accuracy, to be most of a day, Kurisu wasn't exactly sold on the new world. It was very dark. And very quiet. And very, very boring. She felt strongly that escaping prison shouldn't be so much like being back in it.

The steady pressure of Okabe's hand in hers was the only thing that seemed real in this place; without that lifeline she might have believed that the darkness went on forever, and she was doomed to wander its labyrinth for all eternity. Mired in such morbid imaginings, she failed to notice when her companion stopped and her tired feet, walking of their own accord, carried her straight into him.

'Oof!' he grunted. '...must you constantly assault me like this?'

Still a little spooked by the bugs he'd mentioned earlier, she did her best to shut him up by clamping a hand over his mouth. Turn about was fair play, after all. Sadly, a decade of an enforced sedentary lifestyle hadn't done much for her physique and he shook her off with an ease that was almost insulting.

'We can talk safely now,' he said. 'There are far too many exits for the Rounders to bug them all.'

Kurisu considered this. Then took a nice, deep breath.

'I AM _NOT_ TSUNDERE!'

A hundred invisible Kurisus agreed enthusiastically, the echoes forcing them both to clap their hands over their eyes until the noise died down.

'That feel better?' Okabe asked her dryly.

'Much,' she replied briskly. 'Please tell me this is the exit.'

'Indeed it is. Now turn away, creature of darkness, lest the naked light of day sear your eyeballs from their sockets.'

'Like hell,' Kurisu said grimly. She wanted this first glimpse of freedom etched on her retinas for the rest of her life. A _clunk_ and the grinding of a mechanical lock sounded, and then Okabe swung the door open.

For a moment she was indeed blinded, but slowly the white-out gave way to sapphire skies and emerald fields lying under the vigilant gaze of dark-forested mountains. Here and there a few crumbling derelicts stood out, their whitewashed brickwork and plaster all that remained of Tokyo's sprawling outskirts. Kurisu stood and gaped at the view, noting with detached interest how the vibrant colours were starting to shimmer and swim together.

'I warned you, didn't I?' Okabe spoke up after a period of tactful silence. 'And now you have eyeball fluids running down your face. Such is the fate of those who ignore my wisdom.'

'S-shut up,' she sniffled, scrubbing furiously at her face until she could see properly again. That desolate landscape... her heart seemed to weigh heavier in her chest as she looked at it. It wasn't so much the destruction that bothered her—what she'd seen of Tokyo had prepared her for that, and this wasn't even her home country, for all that she'd spent far too long here—but the utter emptiness that awaited her.

What was to become of her now? Even SERN's gilded cage had been a place for her to belong, however hard she tried so hard to escape it. And that was a thought entirely too pathetic to have come from her, so she took a deep, settling breath and turned to the person standing next to her.

'Hey, Okabe.' _Please help me. _'What will you do now? Okabe?' The man was looking out along the road that was, she realised, the only work of humanity in the area that looked properly maintained. Whatever he saw, it made his back stiffen and he whirled around to grab her face in both hands.

'Hey!' she protested.

'Hold still,' he said, his face uncomfortably close as he pulled down her lower eyelids and glared directly into her eyes.

...

At last his grip relaxed although his hands lingered on her face, forgotten, as he took in the rest of her expression with something close to horror. 'You're shaking...'

'... Yoooouuuuu ... stop grabbing meeee!''

_CHOMP._

'GAH!'

* * *

_A short while later_

'My finger's still bleeding,' Okabe noted, staring at the offending digit with dull eyes.

'Count yourself lucky it stayed on your hand,' Kurisu sniffed, before the faint rumbling of an engine registered in her ears. 'Wait, is that ... Okabe!' She sprang up, ready to bolt for the sewer entrance; however much she hated those dank tunnels, anything was better than going back to being someone's genius-on-a-leash.

'That's our ride,' Okabe said. 'You didn't think we were going to walk home, did you?'

_Home?_ she thought.

By now, the source of the sound was readily visible: a large truck of the kind with a detachable cab was speeding towards them. With an air of affected nonchalance, Okabe stuck out a thumb and the truck ground to a stop with a squeal and a final _hiss_ as the pneumatic brakes let off pressure.

The cab door opened and a woman wearing a dark gray jumpsuit—the same as Okabe's—exited. For all his apparent calm, Kurisu couldn't help noticing how tense he was as the two stepped close as lovers to stare into each other's eyes, and how that watchfulness didn't quite melt away even when he didn't find whatever he was checking for there. Apparently satisfied, the driver walked round to the back of the truck and opened it up to reveal that the cargo trailer was stacked full with bales of hay.

'Ha, see?' said Okabe. 'This'll get us back to the lab in the very epitome of luxury!'

_The lab. _Images flashed behind her eyes, of the bare room with a single table, a calculator and a pad of paper where she'd spent every day of the last thirteen years of her life working desperately to turn the design she'd made as a peace offering to her father into a weapon that could topple civilisations. The cold-faced man who stood behind her chair to serve as a constant reminder of the price she'd pay should her masters for one moment believe she was holding back.

'The lab?' she asked. Her voice didn't waver in the slightest.

'Mmm. I thought you looked familiar, and together with your name I got it in the end. Kurisu Makise, the genius girl who wrote an article in _Science _at the age of sixteen. From the way you're dressed, and the fact that I found you in the Tokyo Depopulated Zone, I'd say the Organisation caught up to you a while ago. Am I getting warm, perchance?'

Kurisu kept a straight face and glared at him frostily. Had she jumped straight from the test tube into the Bunsen burner by trusting this man?

'Bluntly put, we're trying to find a way to beat the Organisation's monopoly. But to do that the lab needs members and I need an assistant. Even if that means risking a rabies outbreak in the lab—a man only needs so many fingers. Well, come along!'

Kurisu watched as Okabe clambered up into the truck, her heart pounding in her chest and her hands shaking where they were clasped behind her back. He was distracted and the driver had returned to her cabin; she could run right now and neither of them would be able to catch her. The laboratories, the fear, she could finally escape and leave them all behind for good.

Or she could follow this ridiculous man who had somehow extricated her from a ruined city filled with soldiers. She'd been a research assistant before and it was a life infinitely preferable to that of the carefully cultivated 'asset' she'd been only this morning.

Fear and hope warred inside her, threatening to tear her apart through indecision. But in the end, the soul of Makise Kurisu was grown on a foundation of curiosity and she was looking at the only person who might give her answers about this new world.

There had been a time when she enjoyed working in a lab. That naive child had passed away long ago and was not mourned, but perhaps a fragment of her could still be saved.

Before she could change her mind, Kurisu broke into a run and leapt up into the trailer.

And Okabe Rintarou caught her.

* * *

A/N: Well, I kind of promised to do a longer fic, so consider this a down payment :)

Constructive criticism is always appreciated, whether about the style of the piece or the substance. Think of it this way: me getting better at writing translates to you getting better stuff to read. Everyone wins!

Many, many thanks to all you guys who reviewed my last fic. I'll do my best not to disappoint you!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: In the Shadows of Utopia

Disclaimer: I think Steins;Gate belongs to 5bp. and Nitroplus. Certainly not me, anyways.

Summary: The year is 2023. As the Organisation's grip on the world tightens, Makise Kurisu finds herself caught up amongst the men and women who are freedom's last hope: Operation Valkyrie.

* * *

In the end, Kurisu didn't manage to ask any of her questions. It had been a long and strenuous day, and the short period of time she'd spent unconscious didn't really count as restful. Not five minutes after she'd settled down in the soft and scratchy hay, lulled by the gentle rocking of the trailer, Kurisu was fast asleep.

Rusty evening light was filtering in around the shutter when she groaned and stirred, her eyes blinking open. The noise, little though it was, must have woken her companion too because she heard the hay rustling as he sat up.

'Mmph. Evening,' he mumbled. From what she could make out in the gloom, his eyes were lidded and he looked on the edge of dropping off again; the man might act like some action-hero but apparently he still liked to sleep in. The thought made her smile to herself before a more urgent matter made itself known.

'Hey, Okabe?' she asked urgently, 'do you know how long this journey's going to be?'

'If it's sundown, we should be fairly close. Perhaps an hour.' he replied after a moment's thought. 'Why, is the genius girl bored of my company already? I should hope not, that would bode terribly ill for our working relationship wouldn't it, my assistant?'

'...' Her lack of reply only seemed to encourage him.

'Oh, so that's it. Huhuhu...' he began to chuckle. 'My dashing heroism and the sheer power of my presence has rendered you speechless from awe! Naturally, you require time to compose yourself. I understand.'

'No.'

Okabe coughed. 'Claustrophobia, then?'

An exhausted sigh escaped Kurisu's lips. Only five minutes awake and talking to this man was already making her head hurt. 'Sure, let's go with that.' And hope we get wherever we're going before I pee my pants, she added in the privacy of her own head. 'Then since we're here for a while, can you tell me anything about what happened in the last thirteen years? By the time I managed to escape for the first time, Tokyo was deserted.'

Okabe frowned in thought. 'That's a long story you're asking for. Grab a bale and I'll see what I can do.'

Settled down in the soft hay, she watched him ponder.

'Where to start... officially, Tokyo is now designated the Tokyo Depopulated Zone or the TPZ. Nobody home but Rounders and high-ranked employees of the Organisation in Japan.'

'Tokyo was the largest city in the world,' she pointed out. 'How could anyone make all those people just leave?' It would be a ridiculous undertaking even with the time machine, and she certainly didn't want to admit to any knowledge of that. Somehow she didn't think that anyone from this desolate world would take kindly to her having effectively handed their enemies the ultimate trump card.

'Ordinarily, it wouldn't be,' Okabe replied grimly. 'Do you remember when I checked you out before the driver reached us? Wait, no, bad turn of phrase, forget that. The point is that I was making sure you weren't chipped.'

'Like a tracker?'

Okabe shook his head. 'Worse. Infinitely worse. You see, people started behaving oddly about eleven years ago. Just a little out of character: a politician resigns despite having an electoral advantage, a newspaper editor changes their sympathies, a military general is disgraced after being found in bed with a prostitute. Tiny things. You'd never notice unless you were looking but they all added up.' He chuckled without humour. 'Actually, for a while things were really getting better. Wars petered out one after another, the banks started lending again; everyone thought that everyone else was finally getting a bit more sensible and nobody wanted to jinx it by asking why. Except yours truly, of course.'

'So, what, these chips were altering people's thoughts somehow? Making them do things they wouldn't normally do?' Kurisu sniffed. 'That's absurd.'

For a moment Okabe seemed to have lost the power of speech. '...what?'

'Think about it! Granted, the optic nerve affects a decent chunk of the brain but to actually twist someone's thoughts like that you'd need to wire up most of the frontal and parietal lobes.'

'Oh, they do. The chip in the eye is a relay so the signals don't have to through a centimetre of bone. Makes it easier to update the programming. But once it's done... doesn't matter if they're your father, your sister, your oldest friend, they'd happily cut your throat for the Organisation.'

His tone was clinical, overly so, like the postdoc who guided her through her first vivisection. Idly, Kurisu wondered if she would find a scar on Okabe's neck, should she look for it.

'I'm sorry I interrupted,' she said carefully. 'Please will you go on with the story?'

'As you wish. Well, Daru calls what happened next 'Judgement Day'. About five years ago, every single country with nuclear capacity launched their entire arsenal into the sky. They detonated at an altitude of about 450km, creating an electromagnetic pulse that covered the entire earth and shorted out every power supply and electrical circuit that wasn't specially shielded. The whole world went dark in a single day. And with the lights out forever, the Organisation stepped in. Most people were happy to follow anyone who seemed to know what they were doing and as for those that weren't... the Organisation had brainwashed most of the military and the rest had been laid off. There was very little they could do.'

Kurisu sat and let the words wash over her. This ... this was too much. To hear about the end of the world from this stranger. The desolate wastes where her father had once lived, before she'd been kidnapped on the way to his conference so long ago. Had he survived? Was he out there somewhere, cursing her memory or mourning her loss? Her mother was in America and Kurisu would never see her again.

To distract herself, and out of sheer morbid curiosity, she told him to go on.

'Some people fight back anyway. Mostly former soldiers and a few new recruits who were still clean of the Organisation's taint. A few of them still do—a pinprick spark in the abyss. But it turned out brainwashing wasn't the only trick the Organisation had up its tyrannical sleeves.'

And here it came. The fruit of her enforced treachery.

'They had a damn time machine! Every time the rebels attacked they were surrounded and ambushed by the Organisation's forces. Every. Single. Time. Perfect foreknowledge. There's no way to win against something like that without overwhelming force, but an awful lot of people died trying. These days there are hardly any left.'

'You're a rebel,' she made the obvious conclusion.

'So I am, as are you. The death-rattle of humanity, Operation Valkyrie, welcomes you.'

'Operation ... valkyrie?'

'Capitalised, if you please. I'd tell you more but if I'm not mistaken,' he said as the truck began to slow down, 'you're about to see for yourself.'

Brakes hissed and squealed as the truck stopped altogether before footsteps tapped around to the trailer door. A blaze of evening sunlight illuminated the hay and its two human occupants, who found that they had ended up uncomfortably close in the gloom.

'Thank you kindly. Your services on behalf of the cause will not be forgotten,' Okabe told the driver, who nodded once and hauled herself back into her cabin. As the truck drove off, Kurisu got her first look at their destination. It was a farmhouse, built in the traditional style, with a double-roofed main building and two wings that surrounded a central courtyard. In contrast to the overgrown buildings of Tokyo, it seemed like a bastion of the past against the creeping ruin of the future.

'This old place belonged to a relative of mine,' Okabe said, stepping up beside her. 'We're lucky to have it—the people who were forcibly reallocated mostly ended up in prefabs.' He cocked his head, apparently hearing something she didn't. 'Ah. Assume brace position.'

'Eh?' A pattering of feet sounded from inside the house before the doors burst open and a small projectile flung itself at Okabe's waist.

'Okariiiiin! You're back!' a small, dark-haired woman cried as she latched on.

The man in question stumbled under the blow but held his footing and squeezed her back. 'Mayuri, what have I told you about that name? And when we have a guest, too!'

'Hmm? Ooh!' The newly-christened Mayuri bounced over to her and threw herself forward into a bow. 'I'm Mayuri. Nice to meet ya!'

'Hi. I'm Ma-Makise Kurisu,' she stammered as she found her personal space being abruptly invaded. 'Um, what are you doing?!'

'So pretty...' Mayuri murmured, her hands roaming over Kurisu's clothing—unheeding of the woman they contained. 'It's been so long since Mayushii's seen pretty clothes.'

Now that Kurisu thought about it, the woman was wearing exactly the same dark-grey jumpsuit as Okabe and the driver who'd brought them here. For her own part, she was still wearing the modified school uniform she'd come to Japan in thirteen years ago. An indulgence from her captors, she'd been wearing it for so long she'd almost forgotten about it, and with the exception of a few patches it fit her just as well as it had when she was seventeen. She was a little miffed about that.

'Mayuri,' Okabe interjected from where he was smirking on the sidelines, 'You shouldn't get so close to that one. She bites.'

'I do not ... okay, I did but you deserved it! Both times!' Kurisu protested, fully aware that she was only digging herself deeper. Luckily, Mayuri was still preoccupied with her outfit and didn't seem to have heard a word from either of them.

'The first step is admitting you have a problem,' Okabe said airily. 'Come inside and we'll see if any of the tea rations are left.'

'I would, but...' her admirer was practically wrapped around her at that point and didn't seem inclined to let up.

'Just drag her!' Okabe's voice floated back from inside the house. 'She's quite light!'

Kurisu was seriously considering it when Mayuri heaved a wistful sigh and stepped away. 'No, it's okay. Mayushii shall admire them from afar.' Then a thought seemed to strike her. 'Wait, Okarin! The last two bags are Daru's!' she shouted as she ran back into the house, leaving Kurisu to stare after her. For a rebel and a terrorist, she sure seemed childish.

But Kurisu felt more alive today than she'd felt in thirteen years. Honestly, she felt more alive than she had in much longer than that.

The mother of the time machine in the dens of rebels, she was the proverbial lamb surrounded by lions. A precarious position indeed, she thought, but if you're destined to fall, you might as well enjoy the view from the top.

After taking a moment to relieve herself of the strain of travelling, she followed the sweet aroma of green tea back to its source.

'Honestly, Okarin,' Mayuri scolded. 'Do you see me stealing other people's drinks left and right?'

'You always loathed my drinks,' Okabe pointed out. 'Just as well too. The thought of you with a Dr. Pepper's worth of sugar and caffeine in your veins scarcely bears thinking about.' He gulped the entire cup down and sighed blissfully, exhaling a cloud of steam.

'Even if you did have taste, I wouldn't have stolen your drinks because it's wrong!'

'What goes around comes around, Mayuri. Case in point,' he said, turning to offer Kurisu the other cup, 'have some tea.' The other woman gave her a smile and a shrug, as though to say no sense letting it get cold, so she accepted it gratefully and let it warm her hands.

'So when are the other two getting in?' Okabe asked.

'Right about now,' said a voice from the door. The man was tall, with shaggy brown hair and a beard that ran along his jaw like the bottom of a portrait frame; he stepped forward and grabbed Okabe in a bear-hug. 'Although, Yuki went upstairs already. Glad to see you made it back in one piece, but really, dude, you stole my tea again?'

'That's one way of look—' Okabe got out before this ... Daru's ... arms tightened around him and the rest of his sentence trailed off in a gurgle.

'Did you say something?' the big man asked innocently. Okabe, who was rapidly turning purple, wheezed something and flailed his arms. The man actually looked like he was about to suffocate, and Kurisu considered stepping in before she noticed the fond smile Mayuri was concealing beneath a disapproving frown as she watched the pair interact.

'Ah hell, you know one of 'em was for you,' Daru said eventually, releasing the captive Okabe—who gasped in air like a man rescued from drowning. 'That said, take any more without asking and I will break you.' He grinned. 'Heh, I never get tired of saying that.'

'Haaa ... barbarism is nothing to be ... proud of. And perhaps you could ... allow me to retain a little dignity in front of our newest lab member?' Okabe forced out between heaving deep breaths.

'Oh, I didn't see you there,' Daru said, turning to Kurisu. 'Kinda got caught up the moment. A new lab member huh? Been a while since we had one'a those. The name's Hashida Itaru, but Daru'll do. It's a pleasure.'

'Likewise,' she replied, accepting the proffered hand. It was as large as its owner, dwarfing hers; god, the man really was huge. Not fat, exactly, but stout like a barrel. And looking her over with eyes that were a little more cautious than his jovial manner let on.

'A woman of few words, aren't you?' he said.

Perhaps, though Kurisu would say that she'd simply been forced to learn the value of discretion.

'Until provoked,' Okabe chimes in. 'Mad Dog Makise, they call her. But you're probably safe unless she starts frothing at the mouth.'

Oh. Her vision was turning red? She fought down the steadily growing urge to throttle the man and almost had the bloodlust conquered when he holds up his index finger. 'You want to know how I got these scars, Daru?'

'Soooo, didja get any of the components you wanted?' Mayuri interrupted just in time to stop Kurisu from committing grievous bodily harm.

'Sadly not. It flared up just as I made it into Akihabara, and not a moment later Mad Dog here goes running past. Fortuitous indeed, wouldn't you say? Components, pah! We can get those any day, but a good assistant is one of a kind,' Okabe said, slinging an arm round her shoulders.

'I guess it worked out for the best,' Daru said and, preoccupied as she was trying to wriggle away, Kurisu still noticed that he didn't sound all that happy about it. 'Just be grateful they wasted the time-shift like that or you would have been surrounded. We'll have to plan another raid, though.'

'That can come later,' Okabe said. 'For now, Daru must have some rations left to steal. Let us away to the kitchen!'

'I will break your spine, dude!' Daru howled at his retreating back before pursuing. For some reason, Kurisu found her lips twitching.

'Shall we? The last person in the room asked her.

Kurisu shrugged diffidently. 'I can cook, a little,' she offered. The world had changed so much so fast and she had no illusions about how she'd have fared without these people's help. Some recompense was owed.

Mayuri smiled graciously. 'I'm sure that'd be lovely. Oh, Yuki!'

A light tread sounded on the staircase and Kurisu turned to see a woman with long waves of honey-blond hair and matching amber eyes descending, along with a little girl.

'Yuki, this is Makise Kurisu. Makise, Hashida Yuki.'

'Very nice to meet you,' Yuki smiled warmly. 'And this is my daughter, Suzuha. Say hello to the nice lady, Suzuha.'

The girl had golden eyes, the same as her mother's, and for all that she was just a child they held a strange adult intensity as Kurisu knelt to greet her.

'Hello, Suzuha.'

'Hello lady,' the child replied, apparently reserving judgement on the matter of Kurisu's niceness for the time being in favour of more pressing matters. 'Mama, is it nearly suppertime?'

'Oh? Hungry already?' her mother teased.

The little girl shrugged. 'Not really. I ate some worms earlier because Uncle Rintaro says they're new-tricious.'

'Does he now?' Yuki murmured. 'For telling my innocent daughter that, perhaps later I shall help him test it. Put his mouth where his mouth is, so to speak...'

* * *

Dinner was excellent but unimaginative—Kurisu had been forcibly removed from the hob for trying to spice things up a bit—with hot food and more laughter than she'd heard in a very long time.

Of course all good things end must find their end, and the Hashidas, who'd apparently been working in the fields all day doing ... whatever it was people did on a farm, had proposed that everyone get some sleep. 'After all,' Yuki had told her ominously, 'you'll be up bright and early tomorrow!'

This led to one small problem. See, the house was already at capacity (the Organisation required it, she was told, given the overcrowding problem) and all the futons had been commandeered long ago. 'So...' the woman had explained, entirely too cheerfully.

Kurisu's train of thought was derailed as Mayuri snuggled closer and made a noise like a small wood-chipper, the memory of Yuki's grin a fortunate casualty.

Tomorrow was a mystery. These people didn't know who she was, or what she'd done, and who knew if she could keep it that way? She would never be completely safe, even here.

But for tonight...

'Welcome home, me,' Kurisu murmured, and went to sleep.

* * *

A/N: After editing another three thousand words, I feel no little awe for the betas who actually volunteer to do this stuff.

Well, second chapter's up, and we meet a good chunk of the cast. Fair warning—I'm trying to keep them in character, but a lot's changed since we saw them last (not actually last, but time travel makes tenses annoying) and none of them are completely untouched by the end of the world.

I hope you enjoy, and please review. It's the only way I can get better! Much love to Akal and all who enjoyed _Puppets_!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I think Steins;Gate belongs to 5bp. and Nitroplus. Certainly not me, anyways.

* * *

'Very well, that should do it,' Okabe told Daru. 'Three, two, one and PULL!'

Freed from the stone, the plough started to rattle through the ground once more, churning it so that the fresh black soil was lying on the surface ready to be sown. Looking back, he saw the other two had stopped again, Yuki demonstrating how to cast a handful of seed so that it fell evenly and in the desired amount. Makise frowned and picked up another handful but a gust of wind took it straight out of her hand. The expression on her face set him to chuckling, yet schadenfreude proved to be Okabe's undoing as Daru gave another heave on the plough and it tugged his foot out from under him. His yelp of surprise must have caught Daru's attention because the plough stopped and he looked up to see his oldest friend giving him one of the biggest grins he'd ever seen.

'Yes, yes, laugh it up,' he muttered. 'Since we've stopped, though, I was thinking this might be a good time to take a break.' He gestured to the other two. 'Let's ease the new girl in gently, shall we?'

Daru considered this for a minute. 'And this has nothing to do with the fact that it's almost your turn to pull this thing?'

'The mere articulation of that suspicion wounds me deeply, Daru,' Okabe said, turning away to wave at the others. 'Ladies, we're winding down for now!'

'Wait up a second,' Makise said as they approached her. 'I think I'm getting the hang of this.' Brows knitted in concentration, she stood with her back to the breeze and threw out a hand to scatter the seeds... reasonably well, actually. The woman certainly learned fast.

'Great! That's much better, Makise!' Yuki smiled. 'Now let's all get out of the sun before we shrivel up in this heat.'

'You're telling me,' sighed Makise, wiping her face with her sleeve as she turned to face Daru and Okabe. 'If there's one thing I miss from before, it's air-conditioning!'

Her face was pink from a mixture of exertion and impending sunburn, and Okabe couldn't help but notice how the sheen of sweat made her skin glow. 'Er...'

'Perfectly understandable,' chirped Yuki, with an altogether-too-knowing smile in his direction. 'Some water'll help.'

Okabe's mind wandered off as they started back. The field and path were on the top of a hill and he could see for miles; it was one of the reasons this place made such a good base. Not too far away, he could see other fields just like theirs, complete with grey-clad figures toiling away under the unforgiving sun. It was almost idyllic.

But none of them had been given a choice in the matter. The constant labour to keep from starvation rather ruined the simple pleasure of growing and it kept people too busy to resent having it forced upon them. Let alone consider taking action against it. Even for his friends and the members of Operation Valkyrie, far too much time was spent on make-work like this. Okabe had a suspicion that was the Organisation's real plan all along—not merely to stamp out rebellion but to make the very thought impossible. An invidious and long-lived form of tyranny.

Of course, there were still ways of stirring the people up. Which reminded him, it was time Makise met—

A hand rifling through his pocket disturbed his thoughts, and he came back to reality just in time to see Daru unlocking their front door with the key he'd just palmed.

'S'up, Mayuri,' Daru called out as he entered.

'Daru!' the woman in question yelped from inside, 'You're ... back already.'

'Well, it's about lunchtime, is it not?' Yuki pointed out, entering behind her husband.

'Y-Yuki!' Mayuri seemed agitated for some reason, her voice unnaturally high. Even this harsh age hadn't taught her to lie properly, Okabe thought fondly. Between the lip she was chewing and the way she was twisting her fingers together, his old friend's body was one big tell. He noted with interest that Makise seemed to have picked up on the same cues despite only having known the smaller woman for half a day—she might be quiet around most people but she was watching them all carefully. It wasn't hard to imagine where she'd obtained those instincts.

Obviously, the other two had known Mayuri long enough to see straight through her. 'Suzuha escaped again, didn't she?' Daru sighed.

'I barely looked away, promise! The sky was so pretty today, I looked up for a moment and _poof!_ She vanished on me,' Mayuri said despondently.

More than a moment, for Suzuha to get out of sight. Her episodes were getting worse.

'It could've been any of us,' Daru reassured her. 'Probably won't see her again 'till supper, but I'll go out and scour the woods—maybe I'll get lucky this time.'

'I'll check up by the fields,' Yuki added, 'in case she came looking for us. Rendezvous for lunch, ok?' With that, she left the two of them alone.

'Mayushii should probably go too. I lost her in the first place.'

'Don't be silly,' Okabe stepped in before Mayuri could descend completely into self-recrimination. 'Neither of them is going to find her and you know it. When it comes to running and hiding, little Suzuha is the undisputed master amongst us. Somewhat depressing, given my supposed expertise in the area. You just get ... distracted ... sometimes.'

'I guess so. Hey, maybe Makise could look after Suzuha for a bit,' Mayuri suggested, a little more cheerfully.

'Mak— _gah_!' Okabe whirled to look at the red-haired woman leaning against the wall, who raised a cool eyebrow.

'Forgot about me?'

'Damn right I did,' he muttered to himself. 'For someone who shouts at me so much, you're very good at not being noticed,' he added more loudly.

'What can I say? You're just so loud it blocks everything else out,' Makise shot back.

Mayuri giggled at that, and Okabe fixed his opponent with his second-best glare (his _best_ glare was saved for the people who really deserved it) and clapped his hand to his breast in faked anguish. 'Impossible! To have turned even Mayuri against me! It's a plot! Are you some spy of the Organisation?!'

The mood didn't so much fall as plummet like a lead zeppelin with a hole in it. Makise's expression darkened as his mouth snapped shut.

What had he been thinking? To say that line as though it was the old days, treading well-worn grooves above Mr. Braun's CRT shop? That time was long past, and this woman was a virtual stranger. How could he have forgotten that so quickly?

'So... Are ya up for some quality babysitting time?' Mayuri asked Makise, trying to rescue the conversation.

'Um. I guess—'

'—not.' Okabe surfaced from the mental bog. 'It's vital we make progress in the lab as fast as possible and she simply won't have the time. I'm sorry Mayuri, but you _have_ to find a way to focus. At least when you're with Suzuha.'

Mayuri's brow gained the faintest crease, and Okabe perceived an aura of impending doom gathering around her. 'My inventories are vital too, Okarin. Yuki making sure we don't _starve_ is vital. What you and Daru do is important, but I'm just asking for a little help as well. Right, Makise?'

'S-sure,' nodded the woman in question, gulping as the fearsome visage was turned on her.

'Perfect!' Mayuri gave her a squeeze of gratitude and swept out, leaving a stunned silence behind her.

It was finally broken by Makise. 'Great form there, fearless leader.' The words might have been acidic but her voice had lost its sharp edge, much to his relief.

'You're one to talk. If it weren't for the sunburn you'd be white as a sheet! But enough of this tomfoolery—we have places to be, you and I, at least once you're properly dressed.'

'Dressed?' Makise asked, picking at the collar of the faded school-girl outfit she wore as she seemed to see it for the first time. 'I guess this does stand out a bit, huh?'

'More than a bit. Why do you think Mayuri was so fascinated with that get-up of yours? Clothing is standardised these days. Obviously we haven't been assigned anything in your size, so you'll have to wear some of Yuki's. You're a little small—ow! Ow! Shorter. Shorter is what I meant to say.'

Makise sniffed.

'But Mayuri'll be happy to fix up a couple for you when she can.' More like ecstatic. No cloth sold, no dyes... the poor woman's hobby had gone the way of the dodo in the last few years. A petty but important reason for Okabe to keep on fighting. 'For now you'll just have grin and bear it.'

* * *

Iida wasn't so much a town as it was an accommodation centre; a conglomeration of prefabs constructed a few years previously in the until-then isolated plains. When it had first appeared, the place had nearly spooked Okabe and the others into transferring the Future Gadget Laboratory elsewhere. They'd all breathed a sigh of relief when the place had grown no larger than a couple of thousand residents. The town itself was several miles away but their limited diesel rations were kept for more urgent matters, so the two had to walk.

Makise was looking left and right constantly as they passed the gate, her eyes darting from place to place and shadow to shadow. The sun was still well above the horizon and most of the inhabitants remained at work on the farms, but the few left seemed enough to make her uneasy.

Rightfully so, of course. You never could be sure what was lurking behind their eyes.

'Okay, the whole Borg uniformity thing is creeping me out,' she muttered. 'Just you guys that was one thing, but—what?'

Okabe smiled and her cheeks pinked. 'Unexpectedly good taste in television,' he mused out loud and she blushed harder.

'I only saw a couple of episodes,' she protested and then sighed. 'Not like I'll ever see the rest, I suppose. Wish I'd watched the whole thing after all.'

'You'll get used to it,' he told her. 'All of us did. And the sooner the better, which is one of the reasons we're here. Just keep walking and don't stare, you look like a cornered rabbit. No, don't do that either, not here,' he warned as Makise started to puff up like an angry cat. 'Look around. Subtly this time. What do you see?'

They kept walking for a minute as Makise observed her surroundings and Okabe observed _her_. 'They're scared,' she said eventually. 'Not ... nervous like I am, more a keep-your-eyes-down-and-carry-on-moving kind of scared.'

'So they are. And while we're here, your job is to imitate them to the best of your ability.'

He suited action to words, letting his shoulders slump as they entered the town proper but keeping them tense. Not too much—overdoing this was almost as bad as underdoing it—but enough to evoke the exhausted and wary attitude that surrounded many of the workers here. At least, the ones who hadn't given up completely.

Their destination was on the other side of town, and the streets had been designed to make it almost impossible to get there without going through the central space that functioned as a town square. Despite that, the place was all but empty, as it always was. In the centre stood a large noticeboard—the only feature in the area—and the behaviour of those few who entered the square was quite remarkable. They would be drawn to that board one by one, walking as slowly as possible, as though their feet were dragging them forward to their doom. Once they'd reached the board, they would scan it and all but a few would scamper away like the proverbial fieldmouse with its stolen grain of wheat.

Not today, those lucky ones would think. They would lose nobody they loved today.

Now it was Okabe's turn to heed the call.

'Assistant, wait here a moment. There's something I need to do,' he said, and set off on his own pilgrimage before she could reply. Like those before him, he found his footsteps slowing, but came to his destination nonetheless.

In actual fact, most of the board's contents consisted of petty administrative trivialities (although lately he'd gained a deeper respect for administrative trivialities, as well as those who dealt with them, like Mayuri). But in the middle there was a void, paperless save for one list tacked in the precise centre.

_Daily Death Report for Japan_, it was titled. The list of those who had defied the Organisation in word or deed and paid the ultimate price. As he had many times before, Okabe scanned the list for names he recognised amongst murderers and rumour-mongerers and the starving who'd stolen an extra slice of bread. It didn't take long; the lists were short these days, consisting only of those mad or desperate enough to believe that they wouldn't be found out—and had found a squad of Rounders on their doorstep before they even committed their crime.

_Ekiken Jin_. Did the name seem a little familiar? At that very moment, a squad of Rounders entered the square.

Okabe's eyes sought out Makise where he had left her. Standing in a corner, almost out of sight. Good. Now, the soldiers. To be in a place this small, to head so surely in one particular direction... there could be only one reason they were here.

And Okabe couldn't interfere. He was alone, unarmed. The odds of taking down the whole squad were slim. Reading Steiner hadn't activated in the past few days, so the Organisation's time machine would be fully operational. If even one man survived to report the incident, Okabe would suddenly find himself facing not a lightly-armed five man squad but a virtual army. Even if he could get all of them, it would draw attention to this place. Attention that the Future Gadget Lab couldn't afford to have on its doorstep.

Okabe knew all this. The name Ekiken Jin was barely familiar to him; most likely overhead and long since forgotten. Certainly not a Valkyrie. But no matter if he'd never known the name at all, the core of him burned at the thought of standing by and letting the Organisation take one more life from this world.

But there was nothing he could do here. The man could not be saved. Okabe took the flames in his soul and tamped them down like the charcoal-burners of old, ready to ignite a larger blaze. From ash, the phoenix rises, and someday this man would be avenged. Hououin Kyouma, leader of Operation Valkyrie, swore it.

The wind carried the sound of a single shot.

* * *

A hundred miles away, a long-haired woman in a grey coverall was leaning over a map of Japan. Behind her hovered her latest assistant, a similarly dressed girl just crossing into adulthood.

'Oh, it's not hard,' the woman said. 'Just a matter of spotting the patterns. Look, incidents from the last five years are marked on here in red. What do you notice?'

The girl stood nervously, knowing that the slightest whim of the woman in front of her could result in her death. Or worse, invasion by the golden snakes glinting in the woman's eyes. Her friends told stories about them; demons that had invaded the world, crawling inside people to steal their souls.

She looked at the map, trying desperately to spot the patterns her mistress saw.

'Well?' the woman prompted after a moment.

'I-I can't... There don't seem to be any patterns. They're spread all across Japan.'

'Of course they are. The game wouldn't be any fun if they played it so badly as that. What else?'

'And there aren't very many in the places with more people,' the girl carried on desperately, 'because they're scared to go there.'

'Is that so?' The woman's voice was silky and lacked any hint of either approval or disappointment.

'Yes! Look, there aren't any here,' her finger hovered over the area where Yokohama had once stood, before it had been razed in the war. 'Or here.' The ruins of Sapporo. 'Or here... wait, no, there aren't many people there.' In an area a little way southeast of the TPZ lay about sixty square miles of ordinary farmland, unusual only in that not a whisper of activity had been found there.

'_Very_ good. Do you see? They can play the game well enough to fool most people, but _nobody _plays as well as me.' The woman smiled, her eyes glittering. It was a very accurate simulacrum of joy.

The girl bowed. 'Of course not, mistress. Is there anything else?'

'Hmm, yes, send up Captain Yoshinaga. Let's see if we can't dig some rats out of their holes.'

Bowing again, she excused herself. Her shoes clacked on the linoleum floor as she left as hastily as could still be considered seemly. Safe in the hallway, she let out a little sigh of relief; the mistress was kind to her but a demon could not help its nature. Operation Valkyrie would find that soon enough, she thought, feeling a little sorry for them. Many people approved of the rebels in private, of course. But she was a practical girl, raised in a world that allowed nothing less. Her life here was much safer than throwing in her lot with fools.

Left alone in the empty room, the woman rested long-nailed fingers on the incriminating cartographic void. Lips turned downwards, an observer would have found her melancholy much more convincing than her joy.

'After all,' Feyris murmured. 'Every game has its end.'

* * *

A/N: Dun dun _duuun_. Using chapter endings to mess with people is fun.

So. Third chapter. It's been a little while, I know, but Finals are coming up and I have less free time than I'd like. On the plus side, the next chapter will be considerably larger. Swings and roundabouts, I suppose.

Thanks to Akal, EtherealFox and all my other readers. Without your imagination, this story is just a lot of words on a page.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I think Steins;Gate belongs to 5bp. and Nitroplus. Certainly not me, anyways.

* * *

Kurisu watched from the shadows as the soldiers marched across the square. They didn't seem to be looking for her, but she still let out a sigh of relief when they passed out of sight. When Okabe finally returned, he had a face like an old, worn statue, set in careful stoicism and with frown-lines that looked like they'd been etched in.

'Are we safe?' she demanded.

'Not a blip on the radar,' he confirmed, looked even more dejected.

'So why the long face? If you were a cartoon character I'd be looking for the raincloud.'

He sighed and shook his head. 'I'll explain later. When you're ready for the advanced course.'

'I can handle it,' she said firmly. 'Everything's still ... strange and confusing, but I can't make sense of what I don't know.'

Okabe scrutinised her for a long moment.

'It's just a rota,' he said, shrugging it off. It didn't have the sound of a lie, but that was a whole lot of _nothing_.

'Guess as a wanted fugitive, rotas are one thing I don't have to worry about.'

'Not yet,' he said, and that was obviously the end of the matter.

Deathly silence lingered as the two picked their way across the ghost town. Perhaps it was an unfair moniker, but the squat gray dwellings that rose to either side reminded Kurisu of nothing more than grave-markers, bedecked with tattered relicts of the fallen in a failed attempt to look homely.

Their destination bore no distinguishing marks. Just another gray door, set in a gray wall, but the furrow worn in the dirt road marked the passage of many feet. Okabe leaned nonchalantly against the door and tapped it seven times.

Tap, tap-tap tap-tap ... tap tap.

Kurisu frowned as she recognised the pattern. 'Even I know that one. Isn't a secret knock supposed to be, well, secret?' she asked, looking around nervously.

'Indeed, that's what everyone expects,' he pointed out. 'So the _secretest_ of knocks is the one that everyone knows because nobody would ever use it.'

'That makes no _sense!_'

'Exactly. That's why it works,' he told her with a wink, before the doorknob twisted under his hand and he tumbled inside with a yell. There was a feminine shriek and a long, awkward pause.

'...hello, Ruka dear', Okabe said, lying where he fell. 'Sorry to drop in on you like this.'

'...now I can ... die happy,' gasped the head sticking out from under his torso.

Watching, Kurisu felt a treacherous giggle bubbling up her throat and turned it into a cough; which became a coughing _fit _until she couldn't hold it in anymore.

'ahh...aha...ahahahaha!' At least she'd had the foresight to shut the door. Bent double with a kind of desperate hysteria, it seemed like nothing in her entire life had been as funny as that one moment. Then again—she wiped the tears from her eyes enough to get a good look at the pair and it set her off all over again—nothing had.

The objects of her hilarity helped each other up and waited patiently for her to wind down.

Okabe coughed. 'Well, now that the ice has been broken, I'll be counting on you to keep the lovely Ruka here company while I run some errands.'

Errands? He'd said before that getting her acclimated was only one of the reasons they were there. If Kurisu had anything left to bet, she would have bet that these 'errands' were nothing of the sort. But she didn't quite dare push the tentative trust they had by asking.

'Oh. Sure.'

'Wonderful. Back in two shakes of a jiffy's tail.' With that he was gone, and she found herself alone with a perfect stranger who she'd spent the last five minutes laughing at. Can you say: awkward?

And ... oh lord ... perfect really was the word, she thought as she stared at her involuntary host.

'Hello. I'm Ruka Urushibara,' the woman smiled graciously and Kurisu's eyes were drawn to the movement of soft lips and the light shining off white teeth. 'And you would be Kurisu Makise, am I right?'

'Yes...' Kurisu sighed dreamily. 'Wait—no! No!' _Idiot_, she berated herself.

'Hmm?' The woman cocked her head. 'Is that a yes, or a no?'

Kurisu surreptitiously pinched her upper arm. 'Yes, that's my name.' No, I will not turn into a blushing fool.

Swear to God.

Ruka laughed and invited her in. The house essentially consisted of one room, like the student bedsits she'd been looking at before everything went to hell. It was spartanly furnished and contained neither a shower nor a kitchen space, but gave the feeling of being lived in nonetheless. Looking back for a moment, she saw a red and a white ribbon pinned to the inside of the front door. It seemed like it should mean something.

Flopping down on the bed, Ruka patted the space next to her invitingly. 'Sorry about the lack of chairs. I might like to entertain now and again but that's not going to persuade the Administrator to give us extra furniture. You can take the floor if you like, but it'll give you frostbite.'

Kurisu took the floor. It was too hot in here anyway.

'Administrator?' she asked tentatively. This woman was a friend of Okabe's so she must be vaguely trustworthy, but Kurisu still didn't feel comfortable revealing too much about her circumstances to a stranger.

'You don't know?' Ruka frowned in thought. 'It's basically what the name implies—look, Okabe told me you were new to all this. How much do you know about the Organisation right now? I'm not sure where to start.'

'You talked to Okabe? When'd that happen?'

'We had time for a little chat. While _someone_ was amusing herself at our expense,' Ruka remonstrated, though with a little smile to soften it. 'So what do you know already?'

'Not much,' Kurisu admitted. 'I've seen a little of what they've done to the world. I know that they're my enemy. And I know that you're fighting back.'

Ruka's eyes crinkled a little when she laughed. 'That's us! Throwing off the dead hand of tyranny, Okabe calls it. Well, the Administrator is the one ultimately responsible for everything in this prefecture and the ones surrounding it. Supplies, labour, transport ... discipline ... and furniture, of course. If you were in the TPZ you probably met them, or someone associated with them.'

Kurisu shivered. The cold floor suddenly felt a lot colder.

'I didn't really meet anyone there. At all.'

To her great relief, Ruka didn't seem to pick up on her unease. Casting around for a quick change of topic, Kurisu's eyes lighted on the two ribbons pinned to the door.

'Say, what are those?' she asked, getting up to study them better.

'You really _are_ out of touch, aren't you?' Ruka said impishly, slipping past her to carefully unpin the ribbons. Kurisu noted the way her fingers moved, delicate and very gentle, like a mother with a sleeping child. Of the few things left in this place, they were most definitely the most precious to this woman. 'Here, let me give you a hint.'

With that, Ruka reached up and slipped them into her hair, knotting them into bows with a deftness that spoke of long habit. Done, she turned back to Kurisu and posed.

Kurisu's brain spun up, dredging through old memories until it found one from her early childhood, the idyllic times before her mother fled Japan and took Kurisu with her. Of a young lady garbed all in red and white.

'You were a ... miko, right?'

'Still am. The Organisation would have me shot for saying it, of course—they're not overly fond of organised religion, or organised anything really. So I keep the ribbons safe and wait for the day I can wear them in the light of day. My own little rebellion.' She winked. 'Not all of us are genius enough to do science with Okabe, after all.'

'I guess,' Kurisu shrugged awkwardly, caught somewhere between flattery and crimson-faced embarrassment. 'He hasn't actually told me what I'm supposed to be doing.'

'Oh? I wouldn't know myself, but what's your subject?'

'I majored in Neuroscience, way back when. And my dad...' She closed her eyes, caught in the past. '...he taught me physics. We used to debate, even though I was just a little girl.' Then the debates turned into disputes, which turned into an argument that left her crying for a week. At least when she was sure that no-one could see her. And that could have been the end of it, if she hadn't tried for one last chance...

So strange, that one paper could doom an entire world. Sometimes, in her very darkest moments, she wondered what that said of its writer.

'Then I'm stumped, I'm afraid.' Ruka spread her hands, palms up. 'Neither of those things are really in his area of interest. Maybe something you were doing in the TPZ?'

'It doesn't seem likely,' Kurisu dissembled, wanting to catch the conversation before it fell into treacherous waters. 'All they were interested in was particle physics and I never found anything of more than esoteric interest.'

'Oh, now you're just holding out on me,' Ruka complained good-naturedly. 'Okabe never cared about _esoteric interest_ in his life! Can't I hear the real story?'

Her tone was playful. Her eyes... weren't, Kurisu realised. They hadn't been for some time now.

'That's it, I'm afraid. Science often isn't all that interesting unless you make a breakthrough.'

'And people think _I'm_ a tease...' Her hand was on Kurisu's thigh. When had it got there?

Kurisu leapt up off the bed like a startled cat. A few steps and her back thumped against the wall.

'I-is something wrong?' Ruka asked, apparently shocked. 'I'm sorry! I came on too strong, didn't I? I guess I just got caught up in the moment—people round here don't have very interesting stories to tell. A-and then Okabe brings you in and he talks to you like an old friend and I couldn't help being curious. Forgive me?' The woman's eyes were wide and pleading, almost enough for Kurisu simply to write it off as her captivity-induced paranoia acting up. Almost.

'That-that wasn't curious, that was an interrogation!' Kurisu hissed. 'Where the hell do you get off playing mind games with me like that? Huh?'

'Needs must when the devil drives, they say.' Okabe's voice came from her right. She almost tripped over herself spinning to face him. And the muzzle of a silenced pistol, aimed at her chest. 'These days the devil's in the front seat.'

'Great.' Kurisu spat out. 'Finally escape, catch a break. You just reeled me in. Home, assistant, it's all just a sham. Most pathetic thing is I actually fell for it. Hell, did I even escape? Or did you just let the rat run the maze to get its blood pumping?'

'We're not the Organisation, no.' Okabe said. 'Ruka?'

'She's hiding something,' said the woman on the bed, crocodile tears run dry. 'But for her own reasons. If she is a spy, they've upped their game since the last one. It doesn't seem likely.'

Green eyes bored into hers, set atop a pistol sight.

They blinked.

'First good news I've had all day,' said Okabe, lowering the pistol.

Only the awareness that it could be raised again stopped her from breaking the bastard's nose. Or rearranging that snake's beautiful, deceptive face.

'That's it? Play with my feelings, point a gun at me, have me _interrogated_—' With effort, Kurisu forced her voice down from a shriek. 'Let me out.'

'No.'

'I'm sorry, maybe you didn't _hear_ me. Get away from that door—I'm leaving. Rather take my chances with them. Better the bastards you know, right?'

'I won't stop you. But you have to compose yourself or we risk calling attention to Ruka,' Okabe said evenly. 'If you really want to leave, you can. Just hear me out first.

'I'm not just another insurgent, Makise, I'm the head of the Future Gadget Lab. One slip and I could lead the Organisation to every man and woman in our ranks! That a known genius somehow escapes just when I'm in Tokyo, even running straight past me... it was far too convenient. I couldn't afford to trust you. _We_ couldn't afford to trust you.'

Kurisu stood there, unable to move and barely able to think. Fear, anger, she'd felt her share of both but betrayal was a new experience altogether. 'You would have shot me,' she murmured. Yesterday you saved me and today you would have shot me dead on the word of someone I've never even met.'

'For what it's worth, Ruka said, 'I am sorry. This is the part of my job I hate most of all... but in the end it's the only way I have to protect the people I care for. If it's any consolation, I'm very good at it.' Her smile was a little bitter, and Kurisu didn't trust it for a moment.

Deep breaths, until her body no longer trembled and her head was clear. 'I get it,' she said evenly, 'That's just the way this world is, right?'

'For now,' Okabe said.

'You think you can win? Fix all this?'

'Yes.'

'Fine. I'll help you. On one condition: stop trying to ferret out my past. Stuff happened. That's all you need to know. Deal?'

She extended a hand. Okabe gripped it and gave it a firm shake.

A shrill whistle came from the corner of the room. 'Ah!' said Ruka, jumping up. 'Can I offer you both some tea?'

'Please,' Okabe nodded, and watched her go with a fond smile. 'He's always so domestic. At least some things never change.'

Creakily, Kurisu turned to stare at him. '...he?'

* * *

That evening, after a solid talking-to from Mayuri for staying out too late, Okabe tapped her on the shoulder.

'Come with me, assistant. High time you see what you'll be working on.'

'This secret project of yours? I guess it is,' she said coolly. Just because she was working with him now didn't mean she had to like the guy.

The pair headed downstairs into the cellar. Its contents were standard enough: brown hessian sacks that she assumed contained wheat, rice or perhaps a stock of seed ready for planting, kept dry by the granite flags underneath. Okabe knocked on one of these stones, indistinguishable in appearance from the rest, and beckoned her over.

'See that crack?' he said. 'Get your fingernails into it and be ready to pull when I say. On the count of three: one, two, and _three_! GNH!'

The mass might have wobbled. Maybe. It was to tell.

Pull, dammit!'

'I. Am. Pulling!'

'Then pull harder!'

The slab was damnably heavy, but when they levered it up the cellar's light revealed a ladder that descended into a deep, dark, hole carved out by some primordial stream.

'Whew,' he panted, wiping his brow. 'Shall I go first, or do you want the honour?'

Kurisu looked him up and down before her eyes swept the cellar. 'Did you even bring a torch?' she asked, finding no evidence of one.

'Nope.'

'Then you're going in first, aren't you?'

'Fair enough,' Okabe said and lowered himself into the sinkhole, holding the ladder around the edge like a fireman. 'Allons-y!' With that, he plummeted, leaving Kurisu to stare after him. The cold-eyed pragmatist and the childish eccentric—how did those mesh? How could one man play two such disparate roles? And which, if either, was the lie?

A sigh, and she dismissed the question: the abyss beckoned.

Her descent was made easier when a light from below clicked on halfway down, giving just enough light to see where she was putting her hands. Still, the ladder was slick with moisture—she had to take the rungs slowly and carefully until one foot hit solid rock rather than air. Where the cellar had been paved with cut stone, this was a natural limestone cave, wide enough for two to pass but littered with fallen boulders. The light came from a little way farther on, its source hidden around a bend.

She turned the corner and—'Wow.'

Plates of scrap metal were lined up against the walls of an open space about ten metres square. Trays full of circuit-board kits and a rainbow-coloured pile of partially stripped wires filled one corner, a cache of medical supplies another (including a box of surgical instruments). A diesel generator with a manual winder and an old oscilloscope. Bricks of white clay. A toy lightsaber. And in the centre, standing in pride of place...

...was a battered microwave.

Kurisu snickered despite herself. 'I thought you were taking me to your lab, not your scrapheap.'

'Do you have any idea how hard it is to find parts these days?' Okabe asked rhetorically. 'Let alone state-of-the-art equipment. Right now, the Future Gadget Lab is the world leader in every discipline, excepting those cruelly shackled by the Organisation.'

'If you say so,' she shrugged. 'All I see is a microwave.'

'Appearances are deceptive. That, my assistant, is no microwave.'

'Ceci n'est pas une pipe. Deep.'

'It's actually a time machine.'

Kurisu froze. Did they know? Was this another test? 'It's a microwave with a cell phone strapped to it!' she snapped. 'What game are you playing now?'

'It's Future Gadget #8, a modified microwave and the only reason any of us are alive to have this conversation.'

'But—'

'When the Nostalgia Drive is active,' he continued, ignoring her completely, 'any message sent through that phone will be sent backwards in time by an amount of time corresponding to the timer. One second is equal to one hour. Only problem is, it doesn't work.'

'Of course it doesn't work!' she burst out. 'You'd need an entire particle accelerator just to produce a Kerr black hole, along with a source of high energy electrons _and_ a five-dimensional shroud to stop it interfering temporally with itself. Sorry, but using your _microwave_ isn't going to cut it.'

Oh. He was staring. Oops.

'...that's very specific,' he got out after a moment.

She sighed. 'Time travel was my dad's big dream, ok?' she said. 'I've given it a lot of thought over the years.'

'Then you know the theory?' Despite the topic of conversation, Okabe sounded almost absent.

'Okabe, I might be a genius but I'm also a realist. That machine is never going to work again. It never worked, period!'

'It was about six years ago,' he said. 'I was playing around with this thing,' a pat for the decrepit microwave, 'when I started getting messages from my own number. They were fragmented and misspelled, like someone had written them in a hurry, and they told me to get everyone to this place before next year. I thought it was a prank, but they kept coming, one after another. Secrets only I would know. Chips. EMP shielding. The gist of it was: I couldn't stop what was coming. Trying would only bring the Organisation and its stooges down on my head. I had to vanish, and prepare to fight back.'

The story was ridiculous, delusional, but Kurisu couldn't help asking. 'What happened after that?'

'They cut off. Three guesses why. Eventually I figured out how to work the Nostalgia Drive myself, but what could I do? I didn't know what was going to happen, or why, or how. I didn't know _anything_!' he gritted out.

'Then there was nothing you could do,' she told him. 'Sometimes that's just how things are. Take it from somehow who knows.'

'But we still have a time machine,' he said. 'We're going to fix this. We have to.'

'You told me yourself that it doesn't work anymore.'

'It stopped working when we left the Future Gadget Lab. I think there was another part to it that we didn't know about, something other than the Phonewave here. Sneaked back into the TPZ to look for it, but I couldn't find anything.'

'So if we can figure out the missing piece, and find out how all this got started in the first place...' she said, realisation dawning.

'We can still save the world,' he finished.

'That's a couple of big if's.'

'Makise... No. Kurisu,' he said, looking into her eyes, catching them with his. 'I would have killed you today.'

'What?' Yet again, she felt the sharp pain of emotional whiplash.

'If you were a spy, I'd be responsible for dealing with you before you endangered the rest of Operation Valkyrie. I've lead hundreds of men and women to their deaths, I've killed thousands for no other sin than having the Organisation squatting in the back of their head, and that's just the tip of the iceberg.'

His eyes were blank mirrors, open but showing nothing of what the man was feeling inside.

'I can find it in myself to do these things because I know that someday, I'll be able to make it right. This is the true purpose of Operation Valkyrie. Please, Kurisu. Help me save them.'

The silence lingered for a long, long time.

'...just move over so I can get a proper look,' she huffed. The first thing she noticed was that the microwave was just a gutted shell; even the turntable had been removed. 'Where are the parts you stripped out of this?'

'On that table,' Okabe replied, beginning to sound more animated. 'I'll get Daru, he did a lot of the electronics work in the original Phonewave, so he can probably answer some questions better than I can.'

'Right. Hey, Okabe?'

He stopped just as he was turning to leave. 'Yes?'

'I've done this before,' Kurisu blurted out. 'I've worked on... time machines. Before.' Her traitorous mouth snapped shut. A few seconds too late. God, what was she _thinking_, taking this sort of risk? A secret for a secret, perhaps.

She risked a look at his face. He didn't look as shocked as she'd expected; not murderous either, though certainly not happy. In fact, he didn't seem to be looking at her at all.

'Well, there's a surprise,' Daru said from the chamber entrance behind her.

Kurisu resisted the urge to cry out. Sometimes it felt like every single event in her entire life had teamed up to spite her. Dad, the Organisation, this... She turned to face him, slowly. Daru, it seemed, had _not _figured this one out ahead of time and 'not happy' was a gross understatement of his feelings. 'Apoplectic' was considerably closer to the truth.

She wished she could swap scientific genius for the smarts to keep her mouth shut. Or at least talk her way out of this.

'So,' Daru said. 'I wanna make sure I've got this straight. We lose good Valkyrie every time we go outside, people are being executed every day for so-called 'crimes' they haven't even committed yet and my own daughter is going to grow up in the apocalypse because you, Makise Kurisu, screwed us over. That about right?'

The man was breathing hard, and tendons stood out hard in his arm.

'I checked other people's work,' Kurisu lied, her mouth dry. 'Looked for design inconsistencies, inaccuracies. That's all!'

'Sure. The 'genius girl', did proofreading. Why don't I believe that?'

'Daru,' Okabe said warningly.

No. To hell with his help. She would defend herself, thanks.

'I was kidnapped off the side of the road, Itaru! Do you really think I could have refused? I'm not brave enough to die under torture and I'm not stupid enough to suffer trying.'

Against her better judgement, Kurisu took a step towards Itaru, not breaking eye contact.

'People like to think they're in control of their lives, Itaru. They say: there's always a choice. Think what you like about me, but ask yourself... when your day comes... what will you choose?'

Itaru didn't blink. 'I'm a father. I know what I'll choose.' One hand grabbed her by the shoulder. 'A lot of people have been killed because of you. A lot of people are suffering right now, because of the machine you helped build! So my choice is to say: build another one, Makise. _Fix this_. Make it so my daughter doesn't have to grow up in this world. You got that?'

Kurisu bowed her head. A childish part of her had hoped to be forgiven. But this was her chance to redeem herself, and there was only one thing she could say.

'Idiot,' she said, and pushed his hand off her shoulder. 'I was going to do that anyway.'

'Well,' Okabe clapped his hands together. 'Quite a day we're all having. Now if I'm not mistaken, you both have work to do. Daru, is everything packed for tomorrow?'

'Almost,' the big man said, finally stepping out of her personal space. 'I actually came down to pick up one of the new Bamboo-copter models we finished last week.'

'Wait, what's happening tomorrow?' Kurisu asked.

'Another group of Valkyrie have requested the aid of Hououin Kyouma,' Okabe said. 'Unfortunately that means I'll be away for a few days so if there's anything you need to ask me about the Nostalgia Drive, do so tonight.'

'One question. Can I change the name?'

'No.' 'Yes.' The two men answered at exactly the same time.

Okabe raised an admonitory finger. 'Assistant, you have work to do! No slacking.'

'Yeah, yeah,' she mumbled, bending back to the ridiculously named device. One thought nagged at her. During her little... spat with Daru, Okabe had stood by and watched with barely a word, even as Kurisu had been genuinely afraid for her life. Did he know his friend well enough to know that he'd stop? What was going on behind those eyes?

Something hit her on the back of the head: a bundle of clean, white fabric. 'What's...?' She shook it out, and despite everything, began to laugh.

'It's a labcoat! I'm working in someone's basement fixing a time machine made out of a microwave! For terrorists! Y-you can't even get wiring without sneaking past enemy lines but you have a stash of labcoats! Oh...'

'Welcome, Lab Member Zero-Zero-Four ... to the Future Gadget Lab!' said Okabe. 'We do things differently here.'

Understatement of the freaking century.

* * *

A/N: Things get a bit more serious. 'Cause you know, last chapter was all hugs and fluffy animals.

To my readers, a fond thank you; doubly so to EtherealFox. Your comments are always appreciated.

TTFN

Deus


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I think Steins;Gate belongs to 5bp. and Nitroplus. Certainly not me, anyways.

* * *

It is not for you.

'_Hmm?' Okabe looked round for the source of the half-familiar voice, but saw nobody. With a sigh he relaxed back onto the bench, letting a stray sunbeam warm his face. To either side, water trickled merrily past, clear as the glass of a watch-face._

_Arms slipped over his shoulders, winding around his neck to hold him close and he smiled lazily as soft lips pressed themselves to his ear._

It is not your path to walk_, they whispered._

'_There's only one path,' he pointed out. 'Where else am I going to go?' Sure enough, two lines of water hemmed him in—a finger's width, yet impassable as the sea. Beyond lay the desert wastes, all the world worn into fine black sand._

_Slowly, regretfully, Okabe pulled himself away from the fond embrace. 'Time I got going. It's a long way back.'_

No. Not that way.

'_It's the only way home,' he told the empty air._

Move forward._ A hand slipped into his and tugged him towards the end of the path, following the two streams until they came to a vast sinkhole, almost too far across for the eye to see. All around the rim he could see a hundred thousand streams just like his, each separated by an endless desert, come to the rim and run the abyss. _Look over the edge.

_Carefully, trusting in the hand that held his, Okabe leaned out. The water fell, glittering, a hundred thousand parallel streams converging into a single point. 'I don't see...' The hand slipped from his. Another, the twin of the first, planted itself in the small of his back and pushed him over._

_Okabe fell. And as he fell, he saw the last of the water run out, vanishing through the event horizon as if the streams had never been there at all. Then he too passed through. Silently, noiselessly, the hourglass turned over._

'Kurisu?!'

Okabe bolted up, gasping for breath, hands out as if to catch himself from a fall. Slowly, the familiar scene percolated into his head, and he fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. Ever so slowly, his eyes closed again.

The dreams came every night. Or he called them dreams; the word wasn't enough to describe the sheer realism of them. Oftentimes, they seemed more real than waking. Sometimes the visions were merely strange curiosities, but of late they consisted only of dire foreshadowing or cryptic warnings. He'd been frozen, burned, stabbed in the front by a dead-eyed Feyris and in the back by hands unknown. Once he'd been forced to watch his body slowly turned to green goo, his hands liquefying in front of his eyes. The hell was _that_ about...

* * *

It was 11:35. Ten minutes to go until their transport arrived. Ostensibly the truck was due to drop off a fresh supply of seed stock for the next season—unofficially it would be loaded with what little existed of the farm's surplus, a few of the Future Gadget Lab's latest tricks and Operation Valkyrie's greatest and most secret weapon. Namely, Okabe himself.

But before he departed, the customs of the Future Gadget Lab had to be upheld. 'Daru!'

'Yes, fearless leader?'

Their gaze met, and he flicked his eyes towards Makise. _Will you be all right with her?_

Daru inclined his head in return. _I have to be._

'Take care of them, Daru. If anything goes wrong, remember Escape Plan Delta.'

'Wait,' Makise spoke up from her corner, 'I thought it was Escape Plan Zeta?'

'Ah, yours is. They all have to be different, you understand.' He tapped the corner of his eye, and her own widened in understanding. 'Don't worry, I know where to find you if it comes to that.'

'R-right,' she said with a nod. 'Anyway, don't die. I still can't figure out how that machine in the basement works, so I might need to ask you more questions when you get back.'

'Noted. Moving on—'

'Shouldn't you ask him your questions now?' Yuki interrupted. 'At the very least it'll save you time.'

'Eh? Oh, no. No, we don't have the time. The truck'll be here any minute, right?' Kurisu said.

'He might never come back, Makise,' Yuki said with an incongruous smile. 'You should take your chances while you can.'

Makise pinked. 'Shut up, of course he's coming back!' She fixed him with a glare. 'You'd better come back. I really might need your help later—only an idiot could understand how a contraption that ridiculous works.'

'Cough ... Tsundere... cough,' Daru muttered.

'I am not! And stop saying cough!'

Yuki, apparently satisfied with her handiwork, was hiding her smile behind a ladylike hand and he smiled back at her for lowering the tension, before an errant hug from Mayuri rammed him amidships.

'Okarin! Be polite to everyone when you get there. And I want a full copy of their records. And bathe, it's my turn on the laundry rota when you get back.'

'Standard procedure, then.'

'Okarin, I said _polite_. Now you be careful, ya hear me?' Mayuri gave him a last hug and he ruffled her hair in return.

'Loud and clear. Although you know full well that it is the Organisation who should be careful of _me_.' They held close for a long moment, then broke apart as a truck rumbled up outside.

'Ah, the time of our parting is here at last. I must take the next step on the path that leads me to Stein's Gate. My friends, my family ... my assistant ... I say to thee: farewell!

It dawned on Okabe that he was addressing an empty room.

'Hey, Okabe?' came Daru's voice from outside. 'Nice exit speech and all, but would you mind helping us lug this stuff into the truck? I might be your right hand, but I draw the line at carrying your luggage for you.'

Hououin Kyouma sagged like an actor who'd just failed an audition, and went to help.

* * *

'These are the supplies, sir?'

Seven hours and three covert changes of transportation later (or as covert as you can get when it takes two men fifteen minutes to transfer the cargo), Okabe arrived at the new Kawanuma base. It ... wasn't as impressive as the name made it sound. The area had once been empty woodland, but someone had managed to slip a shipment of prefabs through the Organisation's bureaucracy and set them up as a temporary barracks and storage. It was as though the prefabricated town of Iida had been engulfed by forest. Yet the air seemed livelier in this version; humid and damp, but full of chattering voices and the sound of twigs breaking under careless footsteps.

'So they are. Although the suitcase contains my personal belongings and is not to be meddled with under any circumstances. Not unless you think yourself capable of disarming the fiendish trap under the lid. Many before you have tried, of course, but mark me! never more than once.' Okabe fixed the man with a glare. 'Hououin Kyouma takes security very seriously.'

'I shall bear that in mind, sir.'

What? No reaction at all? That said, Captain Masumune did seem born to play the straight man—his long, aquiline nose and deep brows lent his face a natural melancholy, while his chin was clean-shaven despite spending months in a cabin in the woods.

'Right,' Okabe said, a little disappointed. 'And the new recruits? I seem to recall a few new members finding their way to our flock.'

'Thirty five of them, sir.' The man's back straightened a little, and those deep-set eyes gained a fierce pride. 'They're inexperienced, but they'll learn yet. I'd bet on any man or woman of them against the Organisation's so-called 'army' of zombies and mercenaries!'

'I'm glad to hear we have such heroes willing to fight on our side, captain. Their morale will hold for the mission tomorrow, I'm sure, but I'd like to address them all after the evening meal. Remind everyone what they're fighting for.'

'I will look forward to it, sir. But Colonel Shoda wanted to see you as well—may I recommend that you do so now? You may want some time to recuperate afterwards.'

'Recuperate?' he asked, slightly confused.

'Yes, sir.'

He searched the man's face a moment longer and gave up. 'Never let it be said that Hououin Kyouma is not such a fool as to turn down good advice. I shall see him immediately.'

'I'm sure of it, sir,' Masumune murmured, as Okabe walked around a prefab and almost collided with a heavyset man coming the other way. He was only a little shorter than Okabe, and wore a lovingly-preserved JSDF uniform, complete with the two bars and three blossoms that marked him as once having held the rank of colonel.

'Damn right you are,' growled Colonel Shoda. 'Masumune, live-fire drills are beginning in ten and I want you down there. You,' he nodded to Okabe, 'we can talk privately in my office.'

The best way to describe the Colonel's office was as a state of organised chaos. There was a large table, littered with ordnance-grade maps that must have been in during the initial chaos after the Organisation's coup. His desk was equally lacking in empty space, covered in reports; some Okabe recognised, having helped pen them himself from the information passed to him by Ruka and her intelligence network.

Shoda motioned for Okabe to sit, as the man himself planted his hands on his desk and glared down at him.

'So. Hououin Kyouma, in the flesh.'

Okabe got as far as 'Indeed so—' before the colonel cut him off.

'Brilliant. Look, we have one chance to get Kawanuma Base established here. One job, and yes, we need your help to make it work. But let's get one thing straight.' From outside, Okabe could hear the muffled _cracks_ of gunfire as the soldiers began their drills. 'There are good men and women out there—my men—who think you're some kind of messiah, here to lead us all to victory. But I know different. I know about Kobe. I know about all the soldiers you threw away to save your own hide, and I'll be damned if I let you do the same here.'

For a heartbeat—two—Okabe let his gaze linger on his hands, steepled in front of him, before forcing himself to meet the colonel's gaze.

'Do you think I _enjoyed _letting people die for me?' he asked. 'Do you think me such a coward that I would place my own life above so many others?'

It felt good. Just once, the passion in Hououin Kyouma's voice was completely unfeigned.

'The soldiers of Kobe died for me because they believed that I was the only man who could bring them victory. They gave their lives for that victory, and so I must ensure that their sacrifices were not in vain. That's the price I pay. A man like you, fighting all this time... don't tell me you don't understand.'

The colonel's jaw clenched. 'Necessary sacrifice. I get it. But I won't die on your whim, and I won't see my men do it either. Is that clear?'

Okabe bowed his head in assent.

Apparently satisfied, the colonel reached into a drawer and pulled out a heavily annotated map. 'Then listen up, because I'm not going over this twice. We've been forced to raid near Kitakata and Aizuwakamatsu to keep this place up, and word has it that the Organisation is sending Rounders up to deal with us. Along with enough weapons and ammunition to outfit ten times our number.'

Okabe shrugged. 'I've heard something of the sort.'

The colonel shot him a look. 'You know, I have a truly incredible amount of things to do. If I'm wasting my time briefing you then tell me now. No? Then shut up.'

Clearing some space by the simple measure of stacking half the piles on top of the other half, he spread the map across the table. 'This whole area is surrounded by mountains. But they have to get the stuff through somewhere, so they use the Ban-etsu Expressway,' a finger jabbed the map, 'here. Works great, but there's a stretch of road about three miles long running between two tunnels ... _here_ and _here_ ... without any other road access. That's where we'll hit 'em.'

'But the moment they find out, they'll use the time machine to lay a trap for you,' Okabe interrupted again, unable to help himself. 'While you surround the convoy, they'll surround _you_, so how—oh. Oh, that is good! You blow the tunnels. Turn their own trap against them, grab everything you can carry and take off down the hillside. Very cunning. And nicely dramatic, too.'

The colonel audibly ground his teeth. 'I don't need you to explain my own plan to me! You're only here because it all hinges on knowing when the time machine gets used. Too early, we set off the charges and they'll be forewarned of our entire plan; too late and we're caught in their trap before we can block off access.

'I can tell you when the timeline has been overwritten,' Okabe confirmed, 'but I will issue a word of warning—time travel is unpredictable by its very nature. The enemy may send back any message they please, to almost any time they please. While their behaviour is somewhat predictable, and they are wary of the changes that may result from sending back messages more than a few days, never assume that things will go to plan when time manipulation is involved.'

'No plan survives contact with the enemy? Nope, never heard _that _one before,' Shoda said flatly. 'Just hold up your end of this and we're good.' He rolled up the map and began to resort the piles on his desk. 'You've been briefed. Go away; I have a base to run.'

Okabe had to hand it to him, the man was competent. Abrasive, certainly, but Okabe could rest a little easier about the fate of Kawanuma base. No, the problem here would be his small-mindedness. Kawanuma might survive under the colonel's hand, even thrive, but without direction it was doomed to become an irrelevance. Shoda was fighting the war he'd been trained for, defending his homeland against hostile aggressors. For a time he might succeed, but after ten years, or fourscore-and-ten, what then? For the next generation, the Organisation would be a fact of life, inevitable as clouds in winter. The Valkyrie would fall, one by one, and they would not be replaced. The Organisation merely had to be patient and their enemies would fade away; an example to any who cared to imitate them.

Well, he'd dealt with this before. He'd been the one to inspire the shattered rebel elements to stand again as Operation Valkyrie but despite that—or perhaps because of it—the old guard tended to be wary of him and the change he represented. So he would speak to the men directly. Draw the spell of Hououin Kyouma over them, even as he proved his worth to their commander. Soon enough, he would have both their trust and their loyalty; one more asset to stand between the Organisation and the completion of the Future Gadget Lab's own time machine. And if they had be sacrificed to ensure the ultimate victory of Operation Valkyrie, then so be it.

Okabe shuddered and left the Colonel to his work.

* * *

TANG!

TANG!

'Hooohhh!'

TANG!

Kurisu gave the steel bolt another hard whack and sagged, dropping the hammer to massage her numb-yet-aching fingers. 'Owww...'

'Sure you don't want any help?' Itaru asked from where he sat against the cellar wall.

'No help!' Kurisu snapped back. 'I just need a minute... to catch my breath.'

'Hey, your call. But I bet you wouldn't feel the heat so bad if you stripped down a bit.' He grinned. 'Don't worry, I won't be embarrassed.'

Kurisu forced her shaking fingers to close around the hammer's grip. 'One more word, and you'll be singing alto for the rest of your life. Shut up now, and I might not even tell your wife about this, pervert!'

'Okay, one,' Itaru raised a finger, 'I'll bet my manly bass you can't lift that hammer again for a while. Two,' another finger joined the first, 'c'mon, this is _Yuki_ we're talking about!' One last finger was lifted. 'Final point: what are you actually doing with that stuff?'

After Okabe had left, the two had reached a mutual agreement, of sorts. Sniping at each other was awkward, but the verbal battle precluded the threat of a physical one. At least until she got back enough strength to swing that hammer.

'I'm trying to make a way of getting the lab open without two people breaking their nails scrabbling at the slab on top. Look,' she held up what looked like a piece of scrap iron, 'here's one magnet of the pair I made. I'm bolting it to the underside of the stone and when it's done, I'll attach the other one to a handle. Tada! Secret opening mechanism. Save everyone both time and effort.'

Fired up again, she struck the bolt another mighty blow—TANG!—that failed to make any difference whatsoever.

'I see that,' Daru deadpanned.

Kurisu was just about to come up with some cutting retort when she was interrupted by the pounding of feet descending the staircase.

'GUYS!' Mayuri shot through the cellar archway. 'Rounders! They're coming up the hill!'

'What? How many?' Itaru demanded, scrambling to his feet.

'They found us,' Kurisu murmured, aches and pains forgotten as she grasped the hammer tightly. Could they have followed her here? Already responsible for the end of the world, had she also caused the loss of the only chance to fix it?

And, she was startled to realise, the loss of friends as well.

'I think there'd be more of them if they knew who we were,' Mayuri said. 'But you have to hide! If they find you here...'

'You'll have to stay in the lab,' Daru agreed, 'it's the only safe place we've got.'

Kurisu's eyes widened. 'Have you forgotten the part where it _doesn't have air-holes?_'

'So it's certain death versus un-certain death! Now get down there before they raid us!'

'Sorry,' Mayuri said, giving her hand a squeeze as Kurisu descended. 'We'll try to see them off quickly, okay? Just hold tight.'

The flagstone dropped, leaving her clinging to the ladder, alone in the darkness.

'...like I have a choice,' she sighed.

* * *

Kawanuma didn't have a mess hall. Instead, one of the prefabs had been outfitted with a couple of gas stoves and functioned as a kitchen, while the food itself was eaten outside. The sky was a pale summer rose, devoid of clouds, and Okabe felt somewhat more at peace as he scooped rice and pieces of chicken out of the tin they had been served in. The smell of cooking also handily blocked out the reek of the long-unwashed soldiers who sat nearby, digging into their own meals with various levels of enthusiasm.

When he judged the mood to be right, the single moment where he would garner neither irritation for interrupting the meal nor resentment for calling finished diners back, Okabe stood. He said nothing, but one by one, the soldiers of Operation Valkyrie joined him.

'Men. Women. Soldiers. Friends,' he began. 'A long time ago we saw the world we knew and loved die. Ground into ashes beneath the heels of a faceless tyranny. On that day, I vowed I would _not_ let that be the end! I would see the world rise again in the light of a new dawn! I am named after that promise: Hououin Kyouma, the phoenix ascendant. You may have heard of me.'

A lie. He'd stolen the name from a cheesy cartoon rerun, surrounded by graves as he watched God's own light reaching down for Mayuri. His own little soubriquet.

'Every one of you is here because you made that same promise. All of you have fought for it, those of you who have seen battle and those of you yet to have the honour. By coming here, you struck a blow against the Organisation. Tomorrow, you shall strike them harder still! Beset them from the shadows, free the wretched zombies they bring to fight for them, confound their strongest weapon and thieve from them that you may fight them back with their own toys!'

Perhaps it was mere vanity, but the soldiers in the clearing seemed to stand a little taller than before. He meant what he said—in such an age, the simple act of standing up for what was right made them heroes, each and every one. The secret was to make them believe it too.

'For you are Valkyrie! We fight for chaos. We fight for freedom, and our blood is spilled for the future of all humanity!'

There was no applause. It wasn't that kind of speech. But the fuel of hope needs no more than a spark to light, and in their eyes he could see the fire. Rising.

Colonel Shoda's displeasure made itself known soon after, as Okabe was bluntly informed that no accommodation had been assigned to him. So he sprawled against a log and tried to get some shut-eye. By now he'd been shot at enough to know that combat was best done well-rested.

The bushes rustled and Okabe's eyes widened as sleep fled from him once again. He was out on the edge of the camp, well away from the accommodation block. Someone stretching their legs, or had the good Colonel decided to brave the time machine rather than risk his men's loyalty? Dammit, there was a reason he usually brought Daru on these things!

He slipped his hand into his pocket, hand closing around the grip of a silenced pistol. At point-black range, muffled against its victim, a shot would sound no louder than a sneeze. Of course, that left him stranded in the middle of Organisation-controlled Japan without backup. But he'd hitch-hike across that bridge when he came to it.

'Blanket, sir?'

Okabe whimpered, just about stifling the impulse to shoot wildly. 'We... we're in the middle of a wood, how the _hell do you make so little noise?_'

'I had hoped not to wake you up, sir. But I fear the undergrowth got the better of me at one point. Would you like a blanket?'

'Thank you kindly, Jeeves.' The blanket was thin and wiry, presumably from some sort of survival kit, but the night air was chilly and he wrapped it around himself gratefully. 'Strangely enough, my accommodation seems to have disappeared.'

'The Colonel is a man I admire greatly, sir, but he has a dislike for theatricality. I fear your speech made a poor impression.'

'No doubt,' Okabe sighed. 'And while we're on the subject of personality flaws, do you have to call me 'sir' every sentence? I'm younger than you are.'

The moon was a mere sliver and it was too dark to see much, but Okabe could practically feel the heat as the other man turned red.

'I'm sorry, sir, but I was under the impression that it was the correct appellation for a man of superior rank. Am I mistaken? I'm not a man of military training, so all this is still a little strange for me.'

'Neither am I.' Okabe pointed out. 'Knock it off.'

Masumune frowned, looking a little mulish. 'Then would I be correct in concluding that you know the appropriate protocol no better than I?'

'Well, more or less...'

The other nodded firmly. 'Then I shall continue to address you in the manner I find comfortable, sir. But it is time we were both resting. I'm sorry I can do no better than a blanket for tonight.' His footsteps made no more noise leaving than they had before.

For his part, Okabe merely sighed and laid his head against the log he was using for a pillow. It was whimsy more than anything when he asked the retreating man, 'Masumune, why are you here?'

The figure, a barely visible silhouette in the darkness, stopped. 'Only a very noble or foolish man can fight for the sake of an entire world, sir. I merely fight for my own.' The figure merged with the darkness and was gone.

As someone who appreciated the fine art of cryptic conversation, Okabe found himself inordinately annoyed at being on the receiving end. He shrugged to himself and settled down for another night of restless dreams. Tomorrow would be a long day.

* * *

A/N: OCs ahoy! Yup, I've broken the cardinal rule of fanfiction writing. For what it's worth, the subplot is short and while Kawanuma base will be cropping up again, the focus of SoU will always be on the original cast.

On a less fun note, I have Finals in a month. I am therefore going on a brief hiatus—the next chapter is written but unedited, and will be posted at the end of May. The story should carry on as usual from there.

To EtherealFox, whimsicalrabbit and my anonymous reviewer, thank you very much for your comments; they always make me smile. To the rest of my readers, I love you all dearly. But even more if you review….

TTFN

Deus


	6. Chapter 6

For the second time in as many days, Okabe found himself in the back of a cargo truck. This one, unlike their usual transportation, was stolen—they couldn't afford drawing attention to a registered truck and driver who could be traced back to them. Not to mention that leaving a driver out to dry like that would be both cruel and inordinately wasteful; what kind of commander would dispose of his agents just because they were apparently of no more use? Loyalty was a rare and precious thing.

Okabe choked a little, unable to distract himself from the fact that he was sharing a confined space with two squads of people who hadn't seen running water in several months. Fortunately his gagging was lost under the _bang_ as they hit another pothole. The Ban-etsu was well maintained, but the nearby village and the roads that surrounded it were anything but. Forty minutes of driving and it felt like he'd been attacked by an incompetent masseuse wielding a meat tenderiser.

There were two more bangs as Captain Masumune rapped on the wall.

'Gentlemen, listen up! In five minutes, we will reach the toll booth for the Ban-etsu Expressway. You've all been briefed, so remember your roles and I know that you will perform them to the best of your abilities. May the gods watch over us all.'

A few nodded, others closed their eyes to pray, and most of the new trainees gripped their black-market assault rifles so hard their knuckles turned white. Okabe drew his own pistol (he wasn't meant to be directly in the fray, and the weapon had kept him safe so far) and tongued the suicide patch in his mouth. No matter how many times he experienced it, battle was something he never quite got used to.

The bone-rattling vibrations died away as the truck turned onto the fresh tarmac of the Expressway, replaced by a chorus of metallic clicks as nervous soldiers checked their clips, loaded cartridges and snapped off the safeties.

'Arai. Murai,' the captain hissed, gesturing to the metal shutter that separated them from the outside world. A short man and a slightly taller woman—veterans, by the hard look in their eyes—nodded and slid to the floor.

The truck lurched beneath their feet and began to slow. Thirty seconds.

Okabe fixed the faces in his head, one by one. Proud, protective Daru and Yuki of the mischievous smile. Little Suzuha. Beautiful Ruka, never lost for willing company but still so alone. Innocent Mayuri, a spot of colour suffocated by greys. The tsundere one. And Feyris, taken from them.

Faces he had to see again.

_Move forwards._

Voices came from outside. Harsh. Official. _Tap tap _of footsteps around the side of the truck.

A clatter as the shutter started to wind upwards.

Before it rose three inches, Arai and Murai shoved rifle muzzles through the gap and started firing. Short, sharp bursts, deafening him. Actinic flashes blinding him. Bodies thudded to the ground outside, falling like wet sacks as the rest of the Organisation men yelled orders and started to fire back. Their shots rattled against the metal shutter but failed to penetrate, ricochets whining away as Arai and Munai kept firing to the tune of screams from outside.

The return fire died off; he guessed the remainder of the Organisation forces were heading for cover.

Masumune gestured sharply and the two closest to the shutter grabbed it and heaved it the rest of the way up, the sunlight almost blinding Okabe all over again.

'Go, go, go!' the Captain shouted. Their task done, Arai and Munai were the first out, clearing the way for the rest of the Valkyrie to follow, filing around the shutter-lifters who had thrown themselves down in the middle and were shooting indiscriminately into the armoured office and tollbooths.

A few of the enemy ignored the bullets that zipped and whined around them to fire at the vulnerable Valkyrie squads as they scrambled for cover. Either suicidally brave or programmed to lack self-preservation, almost all of them fell under the covering fire from the truck, but they took their toll. Munai, out of bullets, didn't make it. Last out, Okabe flinched as he was spattered with fluids, the corpse of his immediate predecessor tumbling over the lip of the truck. The two prone men swore, their guns falling silent as the corpse toppled through their line of sight.

A moment later, Okabe breathed a sigh of relief as the chatter of their own covering fire started again, taken over by the ones who'd made it to cover. All three of them dashed for the nearest unoccupied booth.

Back to the wall, Okabe took a moment to get his bearings amongst the rising mist of cordite. Using a mirror he kept for the purpose, he scanned around the corner. The expressway had four lanes, two in each direction, and each was barred by an armoured gate and accompanying tollbooth. The Valkyrie were in possession of three, and the sole enemy occupant of the last would be overwhelmed at any moment. Good.

That left the office as the Organisation's only bastion. Already, it had begun to spit fire from the windows, but there were deadlier weapons than ballistics in this world. Namely, the radio. In less than a minute, the word would be out and the Valkyrie would find themselves caught in a trap not of their own design.

Conventional techniques would get them inside in ninety. Not good enough. Unconventional, then. He was _good_ at unconventional.

The lone enemy taking cover in the booth popped up only to reel back as sunlight was reflected directly into her eyes. A chorus of shots rang out, redecorating the booth in arterial crimson.

One down.

'Cover me!' Okabe yelled, rounding the corner and sprinting for his next target. Tiny fragments of tarmac stung his ankle as a bullet impacted close to his feet but he made it safe to the truck.

The key was still in the ignition; a twist and the vehicle juddered into life, heading straight across the lanes toward the office. Okabe ducked down in the cabin, out of their line of sight but with a hand on the wheel, and began counting under his breath. This had to be timed carefully.

At the last possible moment, he yanked the wheel around and slammed on the brakes in a jackknife. Metal groaned under him, tilting dangerously—if he'd misjudged this he'd end up as blamanche. A moment of sickening uncertainty and then the side of the truck slammed into the office hard enough to send him sprawling.

The office structure had looked heavily built; a little impact like that would barely scratch its paint. What the truck _would_ do is block every one of those windows.

He tumbled out of the cab just in time to watch a redhead sprint around the side of the office and toss a fist-sized grenade through the doors. A second later, they belched smoke with a deafening _crump_.

With that, everything was quiet, save for the ringing in his ears and a clattering from inside as shattered debris collapsed to the floor. The silence was broken by a tall man with hand-painted camouflage patterns over the standard coveralls, who thrust his gun in the air and whooped. The others soon joined him, cheering and shouting, borne along by the sheer relief of survival.

'Yeah! How d'you like us now?!'

'Fuck the Organisation! Fuck the system!'

'And that's one for Apostolos! ... Oi, what are you all looking at me like that for?'

Only Masumune remained silent. Kneeling beside each body, he rolled them onto their backs, meeting their blind gazes as though committing every detail of their faces to memory. When he rose again, their lids were closed. You couldn't believe that there were sleeping, but there was some peace in it nonetheless.

Okabe himself paused only to slide a gate card out of a man's pocket. They weren't to be mourned, he told himself firmly. Only dead men need be mourned, and those who fell in this foul future merely slept until the day he turned back the clock and raised them from the ashes.

'Captain,' he said to Masumune, 'the clock is ticking and there are explosives to be planted. Let's get to it, shall we?'

'One moment, sir,' the elder man replied, heading to one of the tollbooths. A grey-covered body was sprawled inside, arms and legs splayed like a child's broken doll. Masumune brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen across her features, unheeding of the sticky crimson that clung to his fingers, and studied her for a long moment before shaking his head and sliding her eyes shut. 'I must be patient, then,' he murmured, almost too quietly for Okabe to hear.

'No rest for the wicked,' Okabe said firmly, clapping him on the shoulder. 'And time is against us.'

* * *

The last lump of C4 wedged into a gap in the rocks above the tunnel, Okabe stood and waved. 'That's the last of them!' he shouted, to a chorus of nods from below, while a little further down the road, a short man he dimly recalled to be Arai was laying their few anti-vehicle mines supplemented with his lab's homemade firecrackers. His own work done, Okabe descended the rocky hillside like a limber gazelle, bounding from rock to rock until something gave way under his feet and the resulting landslide deposited him at the bottom.

'Ow.'

Lying flat on his back, Okabe decided to take a chance at rest while it was offered. The sky was deep blue and streaked with wispy clouds; golden birds that tweeted merrily as they danced with the pink elephants. One enterprising pair began doing the tango.

A grin swam into place, surrounded by fiery red hair. 'You alright?'

'Some mild contusions. But my mental capacity is plentiful enough to withstand such a miniscule loss of intellect.'

'Not if the convoy squashes you flat.' A hand grabbed his, calluses scraping against his palm. 'Upsi-daisy.'

Okabe's arm felt like it had been torn from its socket, but he was up. 'And might I know the name of my gallant rescuer?'

'Uno Kawano. You can call me Uno.' She ducked her head a little, the grin fading a little. 'You know. If you want.'

She seemed about to leave, but her gaze darted about their surroundings and she leant in closer. 'Look, there's something I have to ask you. What do you think of the captain?'

'Masumune?' Okabe asked, surprised. 'Why, is something wrong?'

'Yes something's wrong: he's no bloody good!' the woman hissed. 'The old-fashioned manners, the nice-guy act, they work on the CO but anyone can see he doesn't know what he's doing!'

She sighed.

'Most of us joined up 'cause of you, Hououin Kyouma. You probably know this already, but you're kind of a big name. I'm just asking in case he screws up... we can count on you to get us out of this, right?'

And to think, not a day ago he'd been plotting to get these people closer to him. Funny how life always gave him exactly what he asked for, just in time for him to realise why he shouldn't have.

'People can surprise you,' he said eventually. 'Sometimes you just need a little faith.' And if they couldn't trust in their captain at this stage of the game then they might as well shoot themselves in the head and save the Organisation the trouble.

As Uno strode back to the rest of the group, Okabe couldn't help but wonder if the second part would have been more persuasive.

* * *

Not for the first time, Okabe questioned if it wouldn't be easier to simply abandon the rebels to the inevitable and repair the Nostalgia Drive in secret. But the idea of cravenly letting the Organisation roll over Japan disgusted him; not to mention that an Organisation allowed to fully secure itself would reduce his chances of sneaking into the TPZ almost to zero and make his job much, much harder. In the end, this was the better way.

He just wished the better way wasn't so likely to get him shot.

Okabe, Masumune and the two Valkyrie squads lay camouflaged on the hillside, waiting for the enemy to appear. The growling of engines grew louder and louder, until the first set of vehicles emerged from the tunnel. Four wheels and a blocky front like an armoured jeep—Komatsu LAVs. Each carried five soldiers, and there were four of them. An equal match for their own numbers. Then two trucks, the targets of their little grocery trip, and four more Komatsus bringing up the rear.

Outnumbered two-to-one, eight mounted guns (each able to turn a man into tatters and rags) and all they had were a few mines stolen or bought off the ex-military black market.

Well, nobody said it would be easy.

They watched as the convoy drew closer to the first set of mines. One hundred metres... fifty...

Masumune's fist tightened on the detonator.

Thirty... ten... five...

The fist clenched. All hell broke loose as the first four LAVs were enveloped in flame and sent tumbling off the road. The Valkyrie were firing even as the shockwave hit them with an earsplitting _thoom_, blinking the dust out of their eyes. Impacts lit up the second set of LAVs, which fired back in lethal bursts even as the smoke cloud hid them from view. The grassy hillside below was shredded in seconds—but the gunners were firing blind and the Valkyrie could fire back at will.

The supply trucks accelerated with a roar, trailing smoke as they burst out of the cloud. But they wouldn't get far—ten Future Gadgets sensed them coming and exploded with little pops, like firecrackers. Thermite powder scattered across the road and blazed to life, burning through tarmac and rubber. Frantic drivers applied brakes to melting wheels; they got nothing but the shriek of tortured metal. Trailing white sparks and foul smoke, the trucks slid to a stop.

Gusting winds blew the road clear, exposing them for the first time. With relief, Okabe saw that two of the mounted guns were silent; one gunner had been thrown from his perch and the remains of the other lolled in his seat. Men spilled out of the Komatsu, some falling but others taking up position and firing back. The mounted guns fired again _tap-tap-tap-tap-tap_ and he saw the Valkyrie in front thrown back even as a punch to his own shoulder sent him sprawling.

Okabe bit back a scream as agony blossomed from where his arm used to be. Writhing, his remaining hand scrabbled at his skull—

His skull?

But

Why

...

...

...

'Sir! Are you alright?!'

When Okabe opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Masumune screaming at him. The words seemed faded, as though a barrier of thick glass separated him from the world.

'Ow,' he groaned reflexively. His sides hurt, as expected from hitting the ground like he had, but his arm and shoulder were fine.

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap_

'Help me with him!' Okabe watched dazedly as Masumune grabbed one of his wrists and someone else grabbed the other, physically hauling him up and away from the lethal streams of lead that were tearing through the landscape. The world snapped back into place and he gasped like a landed fish, kicking frantically to get his legs under him and propel them all up the slope.

Cracks rang out as the remaining Valkyrie returned fire, finally dropping the last two gunners. Momentarily out of danger, he twisted in his rescuers' grip, bringing them both to the ground with a yelp.

'Time-shift!' he shouted into Masumune's ear. 'Set off the charges!'

The other man's eyes went wide as he fumbled in his coat for the other two detonators. Two muffled _thooms_ sounded, and he watched a fountain of dust rise over the nearest tunnel entrance. Stone shards fell as lethal rain while rock flowed downhill to bury the entrance, irregular boulders bouncing and tumbling bottomward.

'Hells yeah,' gasped Uno from where she'd fallen beside him. 'Drive through _that_, zombie motherfuckers.'

Below, the gunfire had stopped, and the only sound to be heard was the pattering of rubble on tarmac. The last of the Organisation's forces had fallen. Heaving himself up, Okabe offered a hand to each of his companions and tugged them to their feet before setting off down to the road. When he arrived, two Valkyrie were at work on the trailer doors, blowing the locks with a final pyrotechnic duet.

'Well, ladies and gentlemen,' Okabe said, swinging the doors of one open to reveal stacks of weapons, ammunition and explosives, 'I think we can call this a job well done.'

'Guys!' The cry came from Arai. 'Look!'

He was pointing at the other tunnel, just visible around the corner.

Open. Gaping.

'Shit!' Uno swore from beside him. He ignored her, time seeming to slow for him as thoughts sparked and crackled between his synapses.

Insufficient explosives? Unlikely. Trap? Possible. Irrelevant.

A dozen schemes of varying practicality and, frankly, sanity presented themselves. He selected one.

'Fall back down the hillside!' he could hear Masumune yelling.

'Idiot!' Uno yelled right back. 'It's completely open! Are you _trying _to get us killed?'

The other Valkyrie were wavering, caught between the two. Of course, when both staying and leaving were certain death, you found a third option.

'QUIET!' he shouted.

And quiet there was.

'Thank you. Now, we have three objectives, do we not? Objective 1: to retrieve these fine armaments for the purposes of the Valkyrie. Objective 2: to escape the armed force that is currently heading our way through yonder tunnel. Finally, Objective 3: to survive whilst completing the aforementioned.'

The Valkyrie were still listening, their eyes wide with the blank fascination engendered by a man stepping in front of an oncoming vehicle.

'To that end, you fellows' he waved a hand vaguely, 'will grab as much guns and ammunition from those trucks as you can carry and occupy those two armoured vehicles. You there, take up position on the hill. Warn us when the Organisation's forces approach the bend. You two,' he indicated Masumune and Uno, 'will stay and help me. Well? Chop-chop!'

The Valkyrie scattered. His two helpers looked at him like gamblers watching the ball slow and wondering if they shouldn't have bet on black. 'Help you with what, sir?' the captain asked.

Okabe grinned.

* * *

'We can't all fit!'

'So sit on someone's lap, numbnuts. What are you, teenagers?'

'Sir,' Masumune asked nervously, 'have you entirely thought this plan through?'

'Define entirely.'

The man visibly winced. 'I see. Ah, sir!'

Okabe followed his pointing finger to see Arai sprinting towards them from the hill, waving his arms. 'Right on schedule.'

The third LAV roared to life as he turned the ignition key. Steering wheel locked in place, accelerator wedged against the floor, there was only one task left to be performed. He hooked the barrel of a rifle behind the shaking gear lever and yelled,

'Begin: OPERATION CHARGE-OF-THE-LIGHT-BRIGADE!'

"_Park"_ to _"Drive"_

The LAV accelerated away down the road, almost taking Okabe's arm with it as the door slammed shut.

'Into the car!' The three of them piled into the final LAV, eyes front just in time to see the Organisation's forces round the hill. Komatsu, personnel carriers, even some of the tanks he'd thought had been decommissioned years ago. A wall of metal was grinding down the road, and one streak of dust was rising to meet it.

As the two converged, a light blinked in the projectile LAV's cabin, invisible under the mass of looted explosives they'd stuffed it with. A bomb on wheels.

Okabe pressed the button.

Flame blossomed.

The LAV detonated with a flash that sent him reeling and a roar that rattled through his bones. A centimetre of armour plating became scything shrapnel, tearing through metal and flesh alike. Lighter vehicles were hurled off the road completely to tumble down the hillside below, until scarred tarmac and blazing mechanical skeletons were all that was left.

'I think we can consider the operation a success,' Okabe said in the stunned silence, and reached for the ignition.

'Buh...buhbuh—No!' Uno cried, startling him.

'Sir, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we would feel safer if you refrained from interacting with any more vehicles.'

'Backseat driver, are we?' He tossed the keys to the captain. 'Just get us out of here. That explosion is going to act like a beacon.'

As their little convoy juddered across the demolished tarmac, weaving between wrecks, Okabe leant back in his seat with the insouciant smugness of someone who knows they have just pulled their companions out of the fire through their own sheer cleverness.

It would have fooled anybody who didn't notice the way his gaze avoided the carnage outside.

* * *

'So you screwed up,' Colonel Shoda summarised, leaning back in his chair. Masumune stood ramrod straight in front of his desk, hands behind his back, like a schoolboy sent up for detention.

'Yes, sir. I don't believe any could have predicted that the hillside would fail to collapse, given its known instability. Nevertheless, had the resultant situation been under my sole command every member of both squads would have been killed in action. We would have failed to deliver you crucial supplies and the safety and security of Kawanuma Base would have been compromised.

'I have failed you, those men and women entrusted to me, and the entirety of this base, and hereby ask to be removed from the office of Captain.'

'Nope,' the colonel said bluntly.

The two men stared at each other across the desk.

'Sir,' Masumune's voice was ever-so-slightly strained. 'I'm not entirely sure you were listening. I am not fit to hold the rank I possess.'

'Then bloody _get _fit,' Shoda growled, rising from his chair. 'You're the captain for the same reason I'm the colonel: because there is no one better for the job. And yes, if you screw up then we will either die or be taken to the surgery to be made into shiny happy people! So. Do. Not. Screw. Up.' Every word was punctuated with a finger jabbed into the man's chest. 'Am I clear?'

The still-a-captain's face was imperturbable as ever. A close observer might have noticed a slight sheen on his forehead. 'Yes, sir.'

'Damn right I am. Now that's done, let's get to the actual point.' Shoda sank back into his seat, seeming to age as he did so until a worn old man sat at the desk. 'Hououin Kyouma.'

'Kyouma, sir? I believe he's packing for a departure this evening. Is that a problem?'

'The problem isn't with him leaving,' the colonel sighed. 'It's with him coming back.'

'He saved my life,' Masumune pointed out with the faintest tinge of reproach.

'Saved? No. Banked. And the day'll come he wants that debt repaid.'

'Nevertheless, sir. If he asks, it is our duty to obey.'

The colonel's lips pursed as though tasted something bitter. 'You trust Kyouma that much?' he asked his subordinate.

'I trust that he wouldn't ask us to sacrifice ourselves without reason, sir.'

'And what about_ her?_'

Masumune blinked. 'Perhaps... a noble dream is worth following. Even if it means the sacrifice of my own.'

Shoda regarded him for a long moment. 'Ah, sod it.' His fist thumped down on the table hard enough to cause minor faulting amongst the piles. 'Captain, tell Kase to get the new weapons handed out and the ammunition sorted; should be enough for Okino to step up recruiting. Then get down to the barracks and tell the men they're on double drills indefinitely. As of this minute, Kawanuma base is to be on full war footing.'

'Yes, sir. Though it will mean a considerable increase in my workload.'

The colonel's eyebrows drew together dangerously. 'Problem?'

'Actually, sir, I was hoping to nominate Uno Kawano for promotion to Lieutenant. She is able and I feel she may provide a valuable perspective.'

'Done. Now go and do what I bloody told you to, soldier!'

The captain glided inaudibly out of Shoda's office. After waiting several minutes to be entirely sure the man was gone, he reached into his desk draw and pulled out a half-empty bottle of jealously hoarded and, by now, well-aged whisky and took a single draught.

'You hear that, Kyouma? All the tin soldiers, lining up to die for you. How's about I do us both a favour? When it comes to it, I'll make sure the fools live for you instead, if I have to drag them through this thing with my own two hands. Just don't bloody welsh on your side of the bargain.'

The drawer and its precious cargo thunked back into the desk, to be left until the next crisis. It would not, he thought, be a long time coming.

* * *

Okabe's eyes blinked open as the truck ground to a halt. The lulling vibrations now absent, he was at full wakefulness in a second. Were they already at their destination? But he wasn't supposed to arrive until near-dawn and not a trace of light could be seen in the dark void of the trailer.

_Crunch, crunch._ Footsteps, circling around the trailer. As quietly as he could, Okabe slipped a hand into the top of his overalls to wrap around his pistol grip. Waking in such a matter had become almost routine, and for a moment his mind wandered back to the original Future Gadget Lab. Memories of fluffy pillows and the soft warmth of a Mayuri Special quilt thrown over a sofa.

There were two hard rat-tat knocks on the shutter and he lowered the pistol with a sigh of relief as the shutter wound upwards. 'Is something wrong?' he asked the tall figure, before stiffening and fingering the pistol grip as he remembered the distinctly rotund nature of his current driver.

'Barricade.' The voice was female, clipped and monotone. 'One kilometre ahead. To avoid official suspicion you are requested to exit and proceed on foot. With me. Please.'

It could be a trap. But given the distinct lack of spotlight, firearms or summary execution, it seemed an unlikely possibility. And the idea of this person posing a danger alone was laughable; he wouldn't bet on that stick-thin silhouette against little Suzuha. If only he could risk enough light to check her eyes.

'As you wish,' he sighed. 'It seems a pleasant rest and an easy voyage home was too much to ask, eh? Truly, my life is but the whim of a cruel fate.'

'Wasted time increases the possibility of discovery.'

His back was stiff from sleeping on a hard floor and his head was beginning to pound from fatigue. 'Very well,' he called out, trying and failing to hide his irritation. 'I'm coming out.'

'You wouldn't happen to know anything else about this barricade, perchance?' he asked as he clambered out. The shadowy figure said nothing, turning to head into the woods. 'And I'd appreciate if you didn't ignore me.' Behind him, the truck switched its lights back on again and pulled away, stranding him.

Cursing under his breath, he headed for the moving patch of darkness that signified his escort, almost tripping on the ditch at the side of the road. Little light came from the thin lunar crescent but he could see that one side of the sky was definitely brighter than the other—home was nearer than he'd thought. Long grass tugged as his ankles as he powered forward, easily catching up to the slender figure ahead and grabbing her by the shoulder.

'Look, you didn't answer my question,' he said, ignoring the way she stiffened in his grip. 'Is there trouble?'

'Rumours of possible Valkyrie activity. This area has been placed under quarantine under the orders of Captain Yoshinaga,' his guide said curtly. 'Roads are watched. It is unsafe.'

Impossible! To have tracked them here after he'd been so _careful_. The man he'd let die only a few days ago to protect their secret; was that sacrifice for nothing? Here of all places, there shouldn't have been so much as a whisper of—oh, no. No, no, no! Of course she noticed. Damned if they did and damned if they didn't? But that was always the way with her.

He stumbled through the darkness, his thoughts clouded as his eyes. Were the others all right? Should he be heading to the rendezvous points, or were they already taken? If the Organisation had the Nostalgia Drive then all hope was already lost, without possibility of reversal. The high chittering of cicadas seemed to take on the sound of mocking laughter.

'We're here.' The cold composure of his companion helped snap him out of the momentary daze, a branch rustling as she lifted it aside—he hadn't even noticed entering a wood—to reveal a larger space beyond. He entered. The canopy above excluded any hint of moonlight; the way beyond was impossible to discern.

'Well?' he called back, 'What now?' No reply.

A light flashed into existence behind him, his shadow sprawling across the leafy floor. A cry rang out, his own, as he turned and stumbled back, gaping in horror at the abomination revealed. Two bulging eyes glowed above a shadowy maw, burning in the light of...

Mayuri giggled and switched the torch off.

'Hey, silly.'

'...' he said uselessly as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling his heartbeat slow from a whine to a more sedate hum.

'At least hug back,' she said, pout noticeable to the ear if not the eye.

'Just be glad he didn't shoot you,' Makise's voice sighed from the darkness. 'I told you startling an armed man was a bad idea.'

'I really must agree on this one,' Ruka scolded, 'that was a very reckless thing to do, you know.'

'Oh, phooey. Someone has to keep all you grumpyguts from spoiling the mood.'

'Nobody's ever accused me of … spoiling the mood … before,' the (man, you fool, man!) replied throatily, 'and my methods are far less likely to get me shot. Of course, I do search any supplicants _very_ thoroughly...'

'Hmph. I liked you better when you were easy to tease,' Mayuri huffed.

'And _I _liked you better when you weren't talking. Or here,' Makise grumbled, right on cue.

'What are you all doing out here!' Okabe hissed, still reeling a little from residual distress and the subsequent emotional whiplash.

'The roads were being watched, so we had to get you around on foot,' Ruka said. 'On which note, are you still there, Moeka dear?'

'Y-yes. Sorry,' his guide whispered from outside the glade, 'But I didn't look. Promise.'

'I know you didn't,' Ruka said, his voice soft and kind. 'I trust you. And I ask so much of you... I wish I could repay that trust.'

'Then why can't he?' he heard Makise hissing to Mayuri. 'Just turn the torch back on!'

'You work for the Organisation,' Okabe made the deductive leap. 'Wait... Ruka, this is your mole? The one you told me about?'

'Yes. Without her, you never would have had enough information to pull off the Kawanumo hit.'

The one that was obviously a trap? Okabe thought, before dismissing the notion. Ruka of all people would know when he was being fed misinformation.

'And when we found out about the quarantine, she was the only one who could pull people over without looking suspicious,' Mayuri piped up. 'So Ruka asked if she'd lend us a hand, and here you are!'

'Um,' Moeka murmured, doing her best to interrupt without interrupting, 'I need to get back. They'll miss me otherwise.'

'Oh, I'm sorry!' Ruka said, 'I didn't think. But just one thing, before you go...'

It was still almost pitch-black under the trees, so Okabe saw nothing, but he heard a gentle tread cross the clearing and a sharp intake of breath from where Moeka had been standing. He certainly wasn't supposed to hear the quiet whispers that followed. 'I seem to say this so many times: Thank you, Moeka. I wish I could do more.'

'N-no. It feels good... to help you. That even someone like me...'

Eager to distract himself from a conversation that was becoming all too personal, Okabe walked in the other direction from the whispering voices only to stumble into another pair.

'I don't get it,' Makise was muttering to Mayuri, 'what's with all the cloak and dagger? Sure, she's worked for the Organisation but so have I! You don't see me walking around with a scarf tied over my eyes.'

'It's a secrecy thing,' Mayuri whispered back. 'The Organisation figures we might have spies like her, right? So those creeps chip anyone who works with too much sensitive stuff. The more she tries to find out for us, the more likely it one day they'll take her too.' His oldest and most empathetic friend sounded on the verge of tears, her voice thick. 'So she mustn't be able to say anything about us. You know, Ruka talks about her a lot. She's helped us so many times and she'll never even meet us properly. It's so sad...'

Stuck between direct angst and indirect angst, Okabe buried his face in his hands. 'Where's Daru when you need him?' he complained.

* * *

'So, you think—uh—they'll be out a bit longer?' Yuki gasped as Daru trailed a series of kisses down her neck.

'They better be,' her husband replied, without stopping. 'Mmm, it's been so long since we had the house all to ourselves. I may have left a spare mine in front of the door.'

Yuki shrugged and rolled them over. 'Works for me.'

* * *

'A mine, Daru?' Okabe muttered to himself. 'Really?' Then he noticed that the whispering had stopped and insofar as he could tell in the black, everyone seemed to be staring at him.

'What?'

A/N: Finals are over, life resumes, and I am back with another chapter as promised. A long one, too! I've never written a battle scene on such a scale before—I think it went well, but if I got something wrong or it doesn't work for you, don't be shy about it. Feedback is sexy.

On which subject, thanks to Undying Soul98, chrishuyen, Kamiakeller and as ever to EtherealFox. I've said this before, but it makes a world of difference to know that what I do brings you guys pleasure.

TTFN

Deus


	7. Chapter 7

'Day Five,' Kurisu enunciated clearly. 'Third start-up attempt this morning with the new addition.'

Not that she actually had a recorder, but some things just had to be done right. Bent over the newest configuration of the 'Nostalgia Drive' that she'd carefully pieced together, Kurisu connected one of the charged solar storage units. Sparks crackled between the spliced wires and she took a few cautious steps back as the machine began to hum.

Hit a random sequence of characters into one of the two phones that lay on the table. Slot the other into the socket. Electrical discharge, increase in mass; those indicate progress.

But if the message goes through...

Salvation. For the world, and for herself.

SEND

Ghostly streamers played around the table, caressing it with the light of another world. Was it working? Could this be...

_Fsst._ They sputtered out as abruptly as they'd appeared, and they only sound was the fizzing of the power cables. Kurisu sighed and let the tension in her shoulders drain away, before stepping forwards to disconnect the damn thing.

It was no use. Some integral part was missing and she was no closer to figuring out what it was.

'Tutturuu!'

The unexpected interruption was enough to send Kurisu half a foot into the air, her finger brushing against one of the jerry-rigged contacts with a _snap_ of earthing charge. By the time she could see straight, Mayuri was hovering over her, her wide eyes somewhere between alarm and dismay.

'Oh no! Are you okay?' Receiving no reply, Mayuri grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her back and forth.

'Been better,' Kurisu grumbled, wriggling free and dusting herself off.

Screwing the toe of her shoe into the floor, the grown woman gave the strong impression of a little girl who'd just smashed the family china. 'Yeah, you, um, kinda got zapped. Sorry.'

And like the parents of said little girl, Kurisu couldn't help but give her a hug. 'It's not your fault. I blame Okabe for asking me to work with this, this _junk! _Sure, my last employers kidnapped me and threatened me when I didn't make progress fast enough, but... okay, fine, this isn't that bad.'

'So ungrateful!' Mayuri gasped in (mostly) faux indignation. 'You _are_ getting the best stuff we've got, you know.'

Kurisu help up a warning finger that, incidentally, smelled rather like burnt toast. 'Don't even try. My magnanimousness has limits.'

Mayuri folded her arms and pouted. 'Fine. Be that way. Hey, Kurisu, can I cut your hair?'

There were no mirrors down in the future gadget lab, so she couldn't be sure, but Kurisu hoped that both her face and body adequately conveyed the only possible response: WTF?

'What? No! Why would you ask that? Don't change subjects so easily!'

'Please? Mayushii will make it look so much better, promise!' The folded arms were now clasped under Mayuri's chin, shining eyes beaming up at her.

'No.'

Folded again. 'It looks like someone went at it with a machete.'

Essentially true, but Kurisu still clutched her hands to her head protectively. 'It's fine as it is!'

'It's a mane!' Mayuri shouted, trying to grab the floating strands even while Kurisu tried to fend her off.

A soft giggle came from the entrance, and both heads snapped round to see Yuki leaning against the entrance. 'My. Is this a private party, or can anyone join?'

Kurisu flushed. Mayuri, her opponent distracted, grabbed a hunk of hair and dragged it round to Kurisu's front. 'See! It's all ragged! Also, it kinda comes down to your butt—which, fine if that's what you're going for, but at least do it well!'

'And while aesthetically pleasing, it stands out a little for a member of a secret terrorist organisation,' Yuki interjected.

'I'll only do it anyway while you're asleep,' Mayuri promised with an angelic smile.

Kurisu whimpered.

* * *

'See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?' Yuki chided.

'But... sharp objects! Crazy people! Head!'

'Pretty,' Mayuri said firmly.

By dint of not struggling too much, she'd escaped with most of her hair intact. The evil scissor-enthusiasts had divided it into two long, silky tails that almost defied gravity as they arched out to either side of her hips. Kurisu ran a hand through one, flipping it back self-consciously rather than meet her eyes in the mirror. At least she'd talked Mayuri out of the pink ribbon she'd wanted to tie in it—hadn't the idea been to make her _less _conspicuous? The only mercy was that the whole business had finally got her mind off the long string of experimental failures.

Riiiight up until now.

Yuki and Mayuri jumped as her head _thunked_ against the table.

'What? You don't like it?' Mayuri keened.

Yuki clicked her tongue. 'Honestly, such a fuss you're making...' The witch was laughing at her pain, she knew it.

'No, it's... it's very nice, Mayuri,' she reassured her impromptu hairdresser. 'I'm just a little frustrated today. Trying to fix that machine is... god, it's like being a video-player technician and seeing a DVD player for the first time. Except the stupid thing's broken, there are holes where components were ripped out and the manual was written by someone who didn't understand it any better than you do. In Spanish.'

'That bad, huh?' Mayuri patted her on the back sympathetically.

'You need a distraction,' Yuki pronounced. Kurisu's forehead was still pressed to the cool, comforting table, but she could practically see a guileless smile spread across her face. 'And I have just the thing.'

* * *

'Wheee! Faster, faster!'

Suzuha orbited her father, squealing with joy as her braids fluttered in the slipstream. But physics makes the same demands of every orbiter and she began to slow, spiralling inwards until she was deposited with infinite tenderness onto the sun-dappled grass.

Kurisu felt a cold, dark stirring of envy in her heart as she watched father and daughter laugh together. A primal _want_, clutching at her like knotweed. With a deep breath, she locked the feeling in a little box, and hid that unsightly thing away in a deep hole where nobody, let alone herself, would have to encounter it. It was a skill she'd learned long ago.

The problem dealt with, she looked back to see Yuki smile and give her husband a kiss on the cheek. 'Hallo, dear. I brought reinforcements.'

'S'okay,' the big man said, crumpling onto the ground as his legs gave way, 'I c'n keep going.' One trembling arm was raised into the air, lasting only a moment before flopping back down. 'Just gimme me a minute.'

Disturbingly, little Suzuha didn't even seem to be winded. Having apparently confirmed that her father was in no shape to carry on, the girl wasted no time in making a break for the wilderness, only to be brought down by a flying tackle from Mayuri.

'Gotcha!'

With husband and wife engrossed in each other, and Mayuri and Suzuha acting as mutual distractions, Kurisu started to tiptoe away. The time machine might be frustrating but unlike small children it was in essence comprehensible (she hoped). Alas, no sooner had she began her retreat than a pointed yet ladylike cough informed her that the jig was up, and an imperious finger directed her back to child-minding.

For a moment, Kurisu considered just running away, then contemplated Yuki's resulting punishment and shuddered. Her eye next caught Daru's, which performed the ocular equivalent of drawing a finger across his throat. The message was clear: _anything happens to my daughter and you can consider the truce history. Plus yourself_.

Caught once more between a rock and a hard place, she hummed a funeral dirge under her breath and went to face her doom.

'Hallo, lady,' Suzuha greeted her, those piercing golden eyes still on her parents as they retreated inside the house, before turning to stare at her when the door shut. Nonplussed, Kurisu stared back, until the little girl gave a decisive nod and set off back to the house.

'Hey, where are you going?' Kurisu asked curiously, following after her.

'Spying.'

'Ookay... why are we spying on your parents?'

'Cause they don't tell me important things,' Suzuha replied bluntly. 'But Uncle Rintaro said he wanted to talk to them so we're gunna listen as well. But secretly.'

Kurisu sighed. The Future Gadget Lab was an emotional iceberg, true. And the thought of finding out a little more than Okabe had told her was certainly appealing, if only so she wasn't blindsided by it later as she had been with Ruka. But she didn't think Daru would take kindly to her letting his daughter eavesdrop on talk of death and destruction.

'Right. Sweetie, I think it's better if we let them talk in private, don't you? Come with me and we can—'

'No! I wanna hear what they're saying.' Suzuha shot her a sly look. 'Or I'll run away and daddy will be mad at you.'

Kurisu opened her mouth. Shut her mouth. 'You... really are your mother's daughter, aren't you?'

Suzuha heaved a theatrical sigh. 'Yes. That's why she's my mommy.'

The bonafide genius fumed a little. 'Hey, Mayuri, can't you back me up? Mayuri?'

Turning back, she saw the woman standing stock-still a little way back, staring up into the sky. '...Mayuri?'

'Hmm? Oh, Kurisu it's you. I was thinking... it's so beautiful today.' Her voice was distant, as though talking to a figment rather than a real person. 'So bright...'

'Hey, stop spacing out! You got me stuck with her, the least you could do is help!'

'That never works,' Suzuha said, eschewing such verbal methods in favour of stamping on Mayuri's foot, hard. The still figure yelped, her eyes abruptly regaining focus.

'Ahh, I nearly had it that time!' She winced. 'Also, owie! Suza, did you kick me again?'

The little girl hugged the slightly-less little woman around the legs in apology. 'Can we go spy now?' she demanded of the pair, her eyes narrowing in deserved suspicion when Kurisu leaned over to whisper in Mayuri's ear.

'I'll distract her. You sneak up and grab her, okay?'

But Mayuri just smiled gently. 'You know, Suza, it's hot again today. How about we give the window trick another go?'

Suzuha nodded solemnly. 'That is acceptable, yes.'

As the kid ran off, Kurisu rounded on her fellow minder. 'What are you thinking? We have to get her out of here before she hears something traumatic!'

She thought a bit. 'For her or for me,' she added grimly.

'Oh, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud,' Mayuri said airily. 'She's only six years old; snooping around makes her happy but she's not going to understand anything she hears.' A shadow crossed her face, momentarily transforming it from that of a cheery ingénue to an older and wiser woman. 'But some day she might need to, and maybe she'll remember then. It's not like we'll be with her forever, you know.'

'You mean—'

'I mean that just because a child outlives their parents doesn't mean that they're ready to be left behind,' Mayuri said sharply.

'Hey, slowpokes, hurry up!' shouted a diminutive figure from further ahead. 'C'mon, let's go, let's go!'

And like a bubble popping, the bitter shadow vanished. Mayuri winked. 'Race you!'

She ran, and Kurisu, seized by a sudden wild playfulness, chased after her with a yell. Feet pounded against sun-warmed grass, her heart pounding as long legs competed against thirteen years of regular exercise. The sky was a hazy azure and there was a sweet breeze in her face, bringing the scent of pollen and the more traditional fertilisers. Had Kurisu been in a philosophical mood, she might have contemplated how complex her new life had become, how much danger she might still be in should the full truth about the original time machine come to light, how little she still knew about the men and women (and bratty little kids) she'd come to surround herself with. And she might have decided that this single moment of innocent happiness justified all that came before, and all that might come afterward.

But for now... there was warm wind on her face and burning in her thighs.

Sucking in a deep breath, Kurisu put on a burst of speed and overtook her short competitor, who yelled with outrage and threw herself at her legs. The two rolled over and over, giggling uncontrollably, until they wound up at the feet of a very, very unimpressed six year old. Suzuha glared at both of them and put a finger over her lips, pointing at the farmhouse that was now visible not far away. Getting the message, and trying hard not to think too hard about what would happen if they got found out, Kurisu returned the gesture.

Suzuha led them around the side of the house, sticking close to the walls; it wasn't long before Kurisu could hear the faint sound of voices coming from one of the windows ahead. Her charge dropped to the ground and began to crawl forwards. She made surprisingly little noise, though Kurisu and Mayuri were less skilful and couldn't help swishing slightly against the uncut grass. Fortunately, the voices continued their conversation unabated.

Eventually all three were settled beneath a low-set window, left open in the hot day so that the illicit discussion inside could be clearly heard. '—what I want to know is: how the hell did they find us?'

'Let's not get ahead of ourselves. It might be a mere coincidence,' Okabe said.

'Thirty square miles, almost centred on us? That's quite a coincidence,' Yuki pointed out.

'I know, I know, forgive me for trying to retain a little optimism. As it happens, I _do_ have one theory...' He trailed off.

'And?'

'...do you remember when we all decided to discourage the Valkyrie from operating in our immediate vicinity? In order to avoid drawing attention to us, and our little project down below? I fear we may have achieved rather the opposite effect.'

There was a pregnant silence before she head Daru groan loudly. 'We are _idiots_. How the hell did we not see this coming?'

From the look on her face, Mayuri was thinking something rather similar. Which prompted another question: why wasn't she in on this? Kurisu herself was apparently still _persona non grata_ around here but it seemed odd to exclude one of the _real_ Future Gadget Lab members.

'Oh, hush,' Yuki told her husband. 'Don't you remember what it was like before they disbanded most of the army? They'd have come down on us like a ton of bricks. We took a risk we had to take, dear, and it's kept us safe here for years.'

'Sure, but we should have at least been ready for this to happen. Now we're stuck here until they find us or get bored of looking! And if you think the second one is gonna happen any time soon, I have some nice landmarks I can sell you.'

'That's not exactly true. The Nostalgia Drive is stuck here, to be sure, but we proved last night that limited ingress and egress from the cordon is possible—until they get the holes patched up, at least.' Oddly, Okabe sounded uncertain, quite in contrast to the self-assurance he usually displayed in both his madness and his pragmatism. 'I think our best chance lies in... taking out the head of the local snake.'

Lying in front of her, Mayuri visibly flinched. The rustle of it was swallowed up in a heavy silence that seemed to spill out of the open window. Finally, it was broken by Daru. 'You want us to go after Feyris. You want us to kill Feyris.'

'Dammit, of course I don't _want_ to. But if we have to, we have to!'

'What, because you think she's the one who figured it out?'

Okabe gave a bitter chuckle. 'She always could beat me at RaiNet.'

'Everyone could beat you at RaiNet!'

'—And that's not the point. The Organisation is hierarchical and the Administrator has near-absolute command; if we take her out then there's a good chance the search will be forgotten by her successor. At worst, the uproar will mask a transfer of the Nostalgia Drive to another base.'

When he next spoke, there was a note of hopeless defeat in Daru's voice. 'I just can't get over... it's Feyris. Twisted, sure, but underneath the wires she's still the cat-eared maid of Akihabara who never gave me the time of day. If she's... if she's still in there somewhere, the last thing she sees will be one of us killing her. How can we do that?'

'Because it has to be done,' Yuki said firmly. 'Because we, personally, have too much at stake to roll over and die. Because the last thing she'll see is you _saving_ her.'

There was a soft footfall and a rustle of cloth, as if of an embrace. Her ears peeled, Kurisu heard her whisper ever-so-softly, 'I'd want you to, if it were me.'

What? What kind of shameless person said that sort of thing in company? Kurisu felt her cheeks flame even as Okabe cleared his throat in convergent embarrassment. 'Can I take it that we are agreed?'

'Yeah,' Daru grumbled. 'Not like we have a choice, really. But Mayuri worked with Feyris every day, she deserves a say in this.'

'And Kurisu. She may not have known Feyris, but her fate is twined with ours now. Hasn't the poor girl been deprived of choice for long enough?' Yuki seemed sincere, for once, and Kurisu found herself torn between the desire to hug her and to slap her for talking about her like some poor orphan waif.

'I was rather hoping not to involve either of them in this,' Okabe sighed. 'Makise is dealing with quite enough already and Mayuri is, well, Mayuri.'

'Oh? Our Phoenix is quite the mother hen, it seems. Harken, is that the sound of clucking I hear?' Yuki chuckled. It seemed to break the atmosphere, even as the air darkened outside. Mayuri looked absolutely livid, her lips drawn back from her teeth and was she actually _growling?_

'Rrrrr... OOOOKAAAARIIIIN!'

The young woman drew herself up with all the gravity of a mighty oak pushing itself out of the ground. A quick look around established that little Suzuha had vanished without trace sometime during the conversation, and Kurisu hastily followed her example. Crawling arm-over-arm as fast as she could, she reached the end of the house and bolted. Behind her, angry voices rose in harmonic crescendo.

* * *

Much, much later, after sundown, Kurisu sneaked back into the house. Having seen neither hide nor hair of Suzuha since the impromptu surveillance mission, running into either parent would likely prove detrimental to her health. In any case, Kurisu was after bigger game this evening. Jumping at every shadow and creak, she made her way down into the cellar.

As she expected, the lab entrance was open, her handmade electromagnet lying beside the dark square of the lab entrance. Getting down the ladder was easier than the first time—though she didn't have the level of sheer _crazy_ required to slide down—and she poked her head round the corner to behold Okabe fussing over the pieces of the Nostalgia Drive. With Daru confirmed absent, Kurisu abandoned stealth and walked up behind him.

'Hello, Okabe.'

To her secret displeasure Okabe didn't startle like she had, but his back stiffened.

'Assistant. Shouldn't you be working right now?' he asked irritably.

'I have been,' she replied, keeping a deliberately light tone, 'although Yuki roped me in for childminding at one point.'

'Well, don't do it again. I'll tell the others not to bother you—the Nostalgia Drive takes priority over everything else.'

'You sure seem impatient today.' Her tone and smile were near saccharine. 'Anything I should know about?'

His lips framed the word _no_ before he read her eyes and slumped. 'They say it isn't paranoia if everyone really _is_ spying on you. For what it's worth, Mayuri stood up for you quite vociferously. It seems I've been "a stupid untrusting overprotective jerk" and I apologise. Is that enough for you?'

Kurisu glared at him. 'Depends. Will you stop lying to me?'

'I make no promises,' he said, lips twitching in what might have been a smile. 'Now, please can we get back to work? Given the events of today, everyone could really use some good news.'

'Actually... I was hoping to talk to you about that,' she said. 'Look, we both have things we want to make disappear. I get it, more than anyone. But don't you think you're putting all our eggs in one basket with this?'

Her stomach clenched at the look he gave her, but she carried on.

'You have to face the facts! Neither you nor Daru could fix this stupid thing and frankly, I'm drawing a blank here. What if we can't do this? What if it never works?'

'It'll work.'

'What. If. It. _Doesn't?_'

'IT HAS TO!' Okabe yelled, wild-eyed, before a bout of coughing hit and he doubled over, spluttering.

Having reflexively retreated to a safe distance, Kurisu watched him warily. 'Are you all right?'

'Fine. Dusty in here. Stupid lab.'

The manic fury was gone from Okabe's voice. Now he just sounded weary and hoarse. Kurisu let her body relax a little but labelled the subject of failure as something very much best left untouched. Would the other Future Gadget Lab members react the same way?

'I'm sorry, he said quietly. 'Properly this time. Hououin Kyouma has had a really _shitty_ day.'

'Your friend.'

'Feyris, yes. There was period of several years when the two of us were... really quite close. The woman was crazy, of course, never took things seriously for a moment. Not even I could keep up with her; god knows poor Daru couldn't, for all that he tried. But she was beautiful in her way, and those few friends I had were very precious to me.'

'You loved her.'

Okabe chuckled ruefully. 'A swing and a miss, I'm afraid. But I enjoyed her company. And then, one day, she just… vanished. Daru was beside himself, but I just assumed she'd gone to the Highlands for real this time. After all, the ways of Feyris were ineffable to any mortal man such as myself. I should have known better.'

Lost in reverie, he barely seemed to notice she was still there. 'I'd read the messages from the Nostalgia Drive. I knew things weren't right with the world. But like a fool, I assumed it wouldn't touch me or mine; how could such an absurd fantasy really hurt anyone? That's not how the stories go, not the ones I wanted to hear. And then there was fire in the sky and we were running for our lives. The next time I saw Feyris was on the broadcast of a public execution, and she was the one giving the orders.' He shrugged. 'And here we are. Can't stick my head in the sand, this time.'

'I'm sorry.' Useless, but it was the only thing that could be said.

'Not your fault,' Okabe responded politely.

They both considered that for a moment. The lie—for lie it was—hung between them; a wall of thorns, wrought of treachery and old pain. Kurisu could only be grateful he didn't know how deep the roots of that lie extended.

'But you didn't come here to listen to my life story,' he said abruptly.

'It doesn't matter.' Experience with her father had taught her never to repeat an argument. It would change nothing, and the reaction would be all the worse a second time.

'A lab leader has a responsibility to his subordinates,' Okabe said, striking a grand pose. 'Speak, assistant, and you will be heard.'

Well, perhaps once more. 'Feyris is the Administrator, right?'

He nodded gloomily. 'She always had a way with people. At a guess, the Organisation decided to put it to work for them.'

'Right, so she'll probably be in the middle of Tokyo, under heavy guard. Getting to her there would be nearly impossible. So I was thinking you'll need a distraction—something to draw the Rounders away. Me.'

'No.'

'But—' she started, and he talked straight over her.

'I said no. We can't risk you, Makise, don't you see? Other tyrannies can collapse, or be overthrown. But the Organisation controls everything, every government and every army on Earth, and it will never, ever stop! The only thing we can do is destroy it before it's born. We need the Nostalgia Drive, and we need you.'

'Okabe, what if it doesn't work?' she asked a third time, her voice tight.

Okabe shrugged in the Gallic fashion, palms up. 'Then it doesn't. If you have IQ points to waste on doubt, genius girl, you aren't thinking hard enough.'

'All we can do is move forward,' Kurisu sighed. It made sense. She just wished the goal was a little less frustrating.

'…Exactly,' Okabe agreed after a moment, a queer tone in his voice. 'You do your job and I'll do mine.'

His eyes seemed entirely too focused on her. Suddenly self-conscious, she looked away, eyes roving the scattered piles of junk until they alighted on an innocuous box she'd seen once before.

'Hey, Okabe?' she asked thoughtfully. 'Why do you have a box of surgical instruments in here?'

'Those things? Most Valkyrie bases have some, in case of any injuries we can't take to the hospital.'

'Like bullet wounds?'

'Or electrical burns, in our case. Why the sudden curiosity?'

'Before all the time-travel stuff, I majored in neuroscience,' she said, thinking out loud. 'I don't know if you remember, but that _Science_ article you recognised me from was on goal-orienting behaviour in rats. There was a lot of microscopy and direct electrophysiological measurements involved, so I had to take courses in basic neurosurgery. If you can get your friend back here, there's a chance … Maybe I could save her.'

'You think you could get the chip out?' he asked, sounding more than a little dubious. 'We assumed that was impossible.'

'It might be,' she admitted. 'At best, it's a long shot. But I could try.' At least it was something concrete she could do to help, rather than fuming at an incomprehensible machine with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Okabe let it sink in for a moment and then sighed. 'Assassination is one thing, but kidnapping an Administrator and bringing them to the one place we absolutely cannot afford for them to find… You do make things complicated, Makise.'

With that, he turned and left. Kurisu, looking after him, had the distinct impression she hadn't helped at all.

* * *

God, if he existed at all, was deeply unkind. Kurisu had come to this conclusion for many reasons, but chief among them right now was the existence of dawn.

'Mmmf. G'way,' she mumbled, retreating deeper under the covers. Mayuri was already gone, marked only by lingering warmth on the mattress, so there was enough room to curl up in a ball away from the sun's dread glare.

Drowsy with sleep, her mind slowly assembled a thought. _But if Mayuri's up, then—_

'Rise and SHINE!'

The blanked was yanked off, revealing to bleary eyes the beaming smile of the devil herself.

'Mine,' Kurisu growled, yanking it back.

The two engaged in a brief contest of wills that was only broken when Mayuri planted her feet against the edge of the mattress and tugged backwards, dragging Kurisu upright and prompting her—in a fit of vindictive ill humour—to let go of the blanket. Her tormentor toppled backwards with a shriek and a _clonk_, leaving Kurisu with no choice but to get up and see if she had done any permanent damage.

'Kurisuuu, that was mean,' the girl on the floor groused.

'Yes,' Kurisu said with some satisfaction. 'Yes, it was.'

Leaving her fallen foe gingerly checking her head for bumps, Kurisu changed in the bathroom and headed down. The hens had laid (they were pretty easy to keep, though sweeping out the coop was tiresome), so there were fresh eggs out; she selected one, boiled it, and settled down at the table with the others.

'Mr'nin,' Okabe mumbled through a mouthful of omelette. 'Whr's Mayuri?'

'She'll be done in a minute,' Kurisu replied, smiling in a way that made everyone else on the table inch back a little. She bit down on her egg with a happy _crunch_ of splintering eggshell.

For a moment, the room was completely silent.

'Right. I'll just go and check she's still breathing,' Okabe muttered, making for the stairs. The table was momentarily silent as Itaru and Yuki exchanged spousal messages, all eyebrows and lip movements and frantic jerks of the head.

_Distract her, you lummox!_

_What? Why am I stuck with her? You have food left!_

_You think I want to _eat_ now?!_

Yuki rose gracefully. 'You know, Kurisu dear, I've just remembered—_hey, get back here!_'

Itaru's chair collided with the wall as husband and wife fought their way into the kitchen, leaving only little Suzuha, her eyes wide with fascinated horror.

'Gosh,' she said.

Eventually, the rest of the household sheepishly filed back into the room, but it was only once Kurisu had finished eating that she realised what a subdued affair it really was. The events of yesterday were no closer to being solved, and it was obvious they weighed on everyone present. Okabe's eyelids were fluttering from lack of sleep, while Itaru and Yuki were deliberately being more _them_ than usual in an effort to compensate. Only Suzuha was happily oblivious, and she was in the kitchen spitting out shell fragments.

Finally Okabe sighed, opened his mouth—and was interrupted by a banging on the front door. It was hesitant; the knock of one who isn't sure if he wants to be heard. For a moment, everyone froze. Then Kurisu bolted for the next room and Itaru tugged the door open.

'Good morning. Did you want something?'

'Have you heard?' The voice was male, and tense.

'Heard … what, exactly?'

'Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.'

'About _what_, pray?' Yuki asked sharply.

'The Administrator's... I mean, it's about Mist—Miss Urushibara… I mean…'

'Perhaps you could begin again,' Okabe suggested lightly, though she could hear steel under silk. 'Start with Ruka.'

'I'm sorry. Um, Ruka's gone. They took him. The Rounders, they took him away with lots of other people. And the Administrator, she's made an announcement in Iida. It's a message to the Valkyrie—if, if they don't come forward then she'll personally shoot all of the people the Rounders took. For hiding terrorists. I'm sorry, but … Ruka's gone.'

'She might not be!' Mayuri protested. 'What if the Valkyrie do come forward?'

'Like that's ever going to happen,' the man said. His voice had grown dull over the conversation, bereft even of fear, leaving only the certainty of loss. 'You think they'll risk themselves for _us? _Well, they won't. They never do. All they care about is convincing themselves they haven't been beaten.'

Hidden from sight, Kurisu winced.

'Anyway. Ruka and I, we were… close. He gave me a letter once; said if anything ever happened to him I was to give it to you. It's funny—I think that was the most intimate moment we ever had.'

'When will it happen?' Mayuri asked, her voice tremulous and thick with unshed tears.

'Tomorrow. Six. In the square.'

'Thank you for giving us his letter,' Yuki said. 'I'm sure Ruka would be very happy if he knew.'

The door creaked shut, and Kurisu edged out from behind the dividing wall.

Itaru tried to say something, choked, and tried again. His fists were trembling. 'We can't do anything, Okabe, you know that. The stakes are too high.'

Mayuri looked up at him in mute protest, while the cracks in Yuki's mask showed her to be unsurprised, if sorrowful. Okabe himself looked … blank.

'I'm well aware,' he said, unfolding a sheet of paper that must have been Ruka's message. 'Hmm. A list of his contacts. How thoughtful of him.'

'Th-that's it?' Mayuri said, losing the fight for self-control. 'All these years … everything we did together … everything he suffered to help us! We just have to leave him?'

'What choice is there?' Okabe said. 'If we surrender, we die. If we try and rescue him—this isn't like a raid, Mayuri. It would be on their terms, and the moment Feyris sees my face she'll never let us go. Even if we do it, even if we escape, she has enough pull to have the day rewound over and over until she has us back. There's nothing we can do.'

Mayuri nodded, and burst into tears.

Kurisu felt like an obscene voyeur, watching them grieve when all she could think was that she would happily let the snake die if it would ensure the safety of these people she'd come to care about. To love. Wasn't Okabe right? Couldn't all of this be rewritten?'

But then, she'd said only yesterday that there could be no certainty of that. More importantly, she'd learned from long experience that there were many ways a person could die while their heart still beat in their chest. If she really loved them, then…

'Okabe. All of you. What are you doing, saying something like that?'

'I told you,' Okabe said calmly. 'Saving Ruka is impossible. The only way not to be caught in this trap is not to be in it at all.'

'Impossible? Impossible?! You're the Future Gadget Lab. You made a time machine out of a microwave! What the hell does impossible matter to you? If it's impossible now, you have until six tomorrow evening to _make_ it possible! Or have you got so used to losing things, you don't even try to save them?'

She lifted her hand, ready to smack him back to his senses if she had to. Then she thought better of it, and laid it on his shoulder.

'Don't you think it's time to stop making sacrifices?'

'Kurisu…' He was trembling, she could feel it under her palm. Mind and body about to fly apart. She squeezed tighter. 'What else can I do?' he begged her.

'I don't know,' she said. 'But you can't do nothing, you won't survive it. Think. How can you beat a time machine?'

'You can't, that's what—'

'Yes, you can. You have before. How?'

'By tricking them so they don't notice anything happened in the first place, or by … not being worth it,' he gritted it out like a confession.

'Meaning what?'

'It's like in a video game,' he said. 'Do you reload every time you lose a point of health? No. Stupid. Not worth it. You might do worse next time. It's the only reason we still exist. But it won't work now, they have us caught too neatly and they can't lose face when everyone's watching…'

For the first time, his face showed a spark of life.

'They can't lose face…' he muttered. 'Feyris is overreaching herself. Yes. The Organisation has to seem fair; do what they say and you'll be alright. Keeps people docile. But Feyris is threatening innocent people to get at us. She's still loyal but she's losing perspective. Her masters could fix that issue, but it makes her less valuable and everyone will be watching, so…'

Everyone. Watching. The words percolated through Kurisu's mind, striking warning bells every step of the way. Her eyes slid from side to side. Yuki, Itaru and Mayuri were staring, and she was suddenly aware of just how closely the two of them were standing. With a strangled gasp Kurisu threw herself backwards, bouncing off the table.

'Great! Good. You think. I'm just going to, um, stand over here. By myself,' she burbled, her face inexplicably warm.

The next five minutes were silent and very uncomfortable until Okabe snapped his fingers. 'I have a plan. Daru, you get Future Gadget #12 out of the lab and go to Iida. This,' he brandished Ruka's letter, 'has details of the dead-drop Ruka used to contact Moeka; set it up with the FG12 and a message from me. Yuki, take Suzuha and follow your escape route.'

Neither of the two moved.

'Okabe,' Daru said quietly, 'I can't let you do this. Whatever your plan is, it's too close to home. It's too close to Suzuha, and it's too close to the time machine. I'm sorry, I really am, but I have her future to think about. You're my best friend … but I can't follow you this time.'

Okabe seemed unfazed. 'I'd never expect any less from you, old friend. But consider this: protecting and fixing the time machine is only half the problem—if we want to prevent this present from occurring, we have to know what lead to it. Normal chips receive updates from the local Administration, but Feyris is connected directly to our lords and masters: it's a line directly into their system. Now, I can get her and Ruka back and the operators of the time machine _will not lift a finger to stop it_. But only if you help me.

'You trusted me enough to come here, you trusted me with your wife and daughter and the time machine and I have never let you down. Trust me one more time, Daru.'

Itaru and Yuki exchanged a look.

'Give me that,' Itaru sighed, taking Ruka's letter as Yuki left the room. 'Seriously, though, mess this up and I will personally invent another time machine just to come back and kill you myself. Clear?'

'As crystal,' Okabe replied. The moment Itaru was out of the room he gave a sigh of relief and slumped into his chair.

'Are you okay?' Kurisu asked him quietly.

'Oh, yes,' he murmured, giving her a ghastly smile. 'Just very, very glad he never actually asked what the plan _was_. But he's not the person this plan really depends on.'

Her eyes narrowed. 'I can help you with the chip, but I don't see how that's going to rescue anyone.'

'While I have absolute faith in your abilities, Makise, I wasn't actually referring to you either.' He smiled wider than she'd ever seen, a mad grin that provoked fear and awe in equal measure. The sort of smile that would get anyone to do anything, just to see what was going to happen next.

'Mayuri. How are your sewing skills?'

* * *

A/N: This was supposed to be a breather chapter between the end of Kawanuma and the beginning of Feyris. But I can't stop! The melodrama compels me! Seriously, I'd be interested to hear any of your thoughts on pacing—it sometimes seems a little fast to me, but I find it very difficult to do otherwise.

Thanks to Undying Soul98 (again), chrishuyen (again), and the anonymous reviewer (whose answer is: yes. Hehe.). I hope you're all having a pleasant summer, and will get the next chapter out as fast as I can.

TTFN

Deus


	8. Chapter 8

Crowds began to gather in Iida's central square as the sun sank down low over the horizon. Some would be friends and family of the condemned, come to bear witness. The rest? Well, the girl standing in the window thought gloomily, humans were drawn to danger as much as they were repelled from it. Perhaps watching the death of others helped them affirm their own wellbeing.

She had no say in her own attendance, of course, but she chose to see the task as a penance. For standing by while others suffered, she would have to taste the bitter draught herself.

'It's almost time, Eiri. Do you think they'll come?'

'I couldn't say, mistress.'

'You _could_ say that it's the wrong question to ask,' the demon smiled. 'The answer is, after all, irrelevant. Whether they show or not, the eventual outcome will be their failure. Why is that?'

Such questions had become distressingly common recently. Perhaps it was the demon's way of showing affection, or simply that she was bored and wished to show off. Of the two, the latter seemed the more likely; fortunately, the girl learned fast and well.

'Because if they come, they will fail. And if they do not come, they will lose most of their support among the populace. This is fatal to a guerrilla army, and will also cause them to fail,' the girl replied, her tone giving no indication of her own feelings on the matter.

'Very good. But guaranteed success is no excuse for sloppiness.' Somebody knocked on the door, a brisk rat-tat. 'Come! Ah, Captain Yoshinaga. Are your forces in place?'

'Yes, ma'am.' Yoshinaga was a tall, stout woman whose efficiency and ruthlessness had propelled her to the leadership of Japan's Rounders. A chip glinted in her eye, contrasting with the black Kevlar bodysuit she wore at all times.

'Good. And don't forget to keep them out of sight—we want the Valkyrie to look appropriately cowardly, after all. If the task is too obviously hopeless, even that mob might see reason. Though I doubt it,' the demon sniffed.

'Of course, ma'am. Was there anything else?'

The demon paced over to the window, brushing past the girl who hastily stepped out of her way. 'Apparently not. Does it look like six o'clock to you, Eiri?'

Now, the girl possessed an antique wrist-watch that was once her father's, given to her on the last day she ever saw him. He had smiled and claimed that it held a little of his heart; that so long as she kept it close to her, it would never run down. A lie, of course. But the watch kept good time.

The time it kept was five minutes to six.

'Ten to six, mistress.'

'Oh. Well, close enough,' the demon sighed. 'I thought they'd play better than this, I really did. What pleasure can I take from an opponent who forfeits?'

'With respect, ma'am, pleasure is not required to fulfil our duties.' Yoshinaga didn't flinch, even as the demon turned a cold glare on her. Of course, she no longer possessed the capacity for fear. Eiri had no such disability and carefully slipped out of sight.

'I know far better than you what is required, Commander. Or have you forgotten how the orders flow between us? My judgement is trusted far more than yours and loyalty is not synonymous with boredom!'

'Of course, ma'am.'

'Not that it matters, I suppose,' the demon said, taking another look outside. 'Clearly they aren't coming. Have the captives brought out into the square. And pass me your sidearm, dear, I know you have another one somewhere.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

Standing behind her mistress, Eiri watched Yoshinaga exit and closed her mouth again slowly. The demon turned, regarding her, but nodded after a moment with seeming satisfaction. There was something that could almost have been pity in that corrupted eye. 'You may stay here,' she said abruptly, and followed the Commander out.

The girl turned to look back at the square anyway. A line of ragged men and women were being stood one by one against a wall, their faces to the crowd—their executioner would have no pangs of conscience. _Yes,_ she thought, fingers on her dead father's watch as she watched the work of the only caretaker she'd known for the past five years,_ the demon will always show itself in its actions._

Another knock on the door, no doubt someone else looking for her mistress and thus not her problem. When nearly a minute had passed and whoever it was had failed to leave, Eiri shrugged and opened it. 'The Administrator isn't here.'

The lanky, bespectacled woman outside stared blankly. '…oh.'

'Sorry.'

'I finished setting up the equipment outside. I was supposed to tell her,' The woman mumbled. Sure enough, her gray jumpsuit marked her as non-military; she must be one of the logistical staff.

Eiri sighed inwardly, and walked back to her window. Indeed, someone had found a functional screen, camera and sound system with which to convey the event to the parts of the crowd too far back to see properly. 'She'll see,' she said.

'…right.'

'You can go now.'

'Sorry to disturb you,' the woman mumbled, bowed, and withdrew. Something about the motion nagged at Eiri, and she frowned, the answer coming to her after a moment's thought. Her eyes. The woman's demeanour had been quiet, beaten down as so many people were, but her eyes had been alert and watchful.

Down below, movement on the stage marked her mistress's arrival, driving the oddity from her head as Feyris began her speech. Even with the speakers, the girl couldn't make out the words and didn't care to. Accusations. Justifications. As though any of it mattered. The crowd was more affected, stirring restlessly, helpless rage shifting like a tide between their tormentor and those who had caused this calamity to be brought down upon them.

Her words ran out.

The pistol was raised.

Eiri heard a terrible, deafening scream. No, an electronic squeal as something pushed the speakers beyond their capacity.

'**LATE? HARDLY.'**

Displayed on the screen was an outlandish figure. He wore a tight suit of royal purple and golden trim. A cape, with two tails of cloth that twined around his legs. And a long helm that concealed the wearer's face.

For a moment, even the girl was affected. Her heart raced. Had the Valkyrie come?

'**YOU DARE CALL ME COWARD?' **The voice boomed. '**YOU DARE CALL ME RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS? YOU, WHO HOLDS THE GUN TO THEIR HEADS AND REQUIRES THAT HER VICTIMS' HANDS BE TIED?'**

Eiri huffed in disappointment. Just posturing, then. A futile gesture. The pistol was still raised and she of all people understood that a demon could not be made to act against its nature. Least of all by a voice on a screen.

Feyris said something inaudible.

'**YES. ALL I HAVE ARE WORDS. I AM BUT ONE MAN AND MY FOLLOWERS ARE FEW. BUT IN THIS SQUARE ARE A THOUSAND WHO DESPISE YOU.**

'**HEAR ME, BRAVE SOULS! THEY TAUGHT YOU THAT YOU WERE WEAK. THEY TAUGHT YOU THAT YOU WERE HELPLESS! BUT YOU WEAR NO CHAINS! YOU NEED NO SALVATION FROM OTHERS IF YOU WILL BUT FIGHT FOR YOURSELVES! AND IN PROOF OF THIS I—HOUOUIN KYOUMA—SHALL SET THE BALL ROLLING.**

'**HEY, FEYRIS? **_**THINK FAST.**_**'**

An object arced up from the crowd and landed on the stage. It exploded there, chaos erupting as it gushed smoke. More went off in quick succession, blanketing the square as the crowd, pushed beyond their limits, surged toward the dais. She saw one of the captives tackle a guard and then their brawl vanished into the mist.

The girl watched it happen with empty eyes. Yoshinaga's Rounders occupied half the buildings of the square, and the crowd was unarmed. All of this would accomplish nothing save unnecessary deaths.

At that moment, a military communicator left by the door began to wail. It was almost too low to hear but the sound was repulsive to her. Overwhelmed with an unnatural sorrow, her surroundings blurred and before she realised it she was on the floor, gasping for breath.

If this was the effect from across the room, a rational remnant of her mind noted, then the Rounders actually wearing one must be completely incapacitated. The thought would have given her some small satisfaction if she hadn't already been seen in the company of Feyris and Yoshinaga. If the rioters succeeded, if they found her here, now… Groaning, Eiri began to pull herself toward the door, as well as toward the source of that eldritch frequency. Her vision swam. A sick horror clung to her, growing with every movement. The door was so close … why couldn't she reach it? Why? Whywhywhy? Not even her survival instincts could keep her going.

She curled into a quivering ball. Hands pressed against her eyes, vibrating in their sockets. Faces leered at her. Whywhywhywhy wouldn't it STOP?!

A shot rang out and the communicator shattered into pieces. The hallucinations slowly faded, leaving only the panting form of a pink-haired woman. Feyris had saved her again. No, she told herself. This was a demon. One who'd just arranged a public execution. One ultimately responsible for thousands of deaths.

One who'd come back for her.

Behind Feyris, a man stepped into the doorway.

Her thoughts in turmoil, Eiri's warning caught in her throat. The man fired three times and Feyris staggered, twisting round.

'Kyouma,' she whispered, eyes wide … and shot him in the leg.

'Next time, get me in the head. And you were doing so well, too,' she tutted as the lanky form collapsed with a moan of agony. A trembling hand reached for his pistol and she kicked it away. 'What are these, tranquilisers? That's adorable.' Ripping her shirt off, Feyris began wrapping it around his leg as a crude bandage, revealing the black Kevlar vest she'd worn beneath it.

From the square, there came a fusillade of shots and screams from the crowd. Some of the Rounders must have managed to disable their communicators. 'You know,' she said, 'I really am glad to see you. The council never wastes good resources; I'm sure that once you've told us everything about your little group they'll let me keep you on here. The two of us together, it'll be just like old times.'

'N-no. I won't. I'll never…' the man babbled, trying to pull his leg out of her grip.

Feyris rolled her eyes.

'As if you have any choice in the matter. This isn't like the manga, cutie, even if you did get hold of a cool outfit. What happened to that, anyway?' she asked, looking him over. 'Never mind. Eiri, dear, help him to a chair. I have a minor riot to finish off.'

Under that steely glare, the girl had no choice but to do as she was told. The man thrashed, trying to get away. 'Feyris! You can't do this!'

Before the demon could leave, he cried out again. 'Then kill me!' She stopped, turned back. 'If this is how it ends, please, just make it stop. I don't… I don't want to see what happens next.'

'I couldn't if I wanted to,' she snapped. 'You're much too useful. What's with this? Acting so pathetically, it's almost like you're—'

'Stalling,' he finished, his eyes on the man who'd just entered. 'Daru! Aim for her neck!'

Feyris spun to look at the door, and in her moment of distraction, he lunged for her wrist.

With a screech of protest, Feyris managed to twist, pulling her opponent into the path of the needle. The next hit her vest and then she was onto the shooter. A jab grazed her shoulder but she moved with it, pivoting to drive a narrow hand beneath his ribcage. Even as the man bent, gasping in agony, she slid behind him. The demon's movements were fluid, almost boneless.

'You've filled out!' she laughed. 'Mmm, shame you didn't look like _this_ way back when. Who knows what could have happened!'

The man, Daru, threw another punch. Rather than dodge again, her hand snaked up and grabbed his wrist, stopping it in its tracks. His eyes went wide and he yanked at it, trying to pull her off balance, but she just smiled and grabbed the other. Muscles bulged in his arms, sliding against each other as he fought her grip without success. Slowly, his wrists were forced together and pulled down, putting the two face-to-face. The demon smiled, sweet and cold, before pressing her lips to his.

'Welcome back,' she whispered.

The girl watched, fascinated, as Daru's eyes widened and then closed. His head came forward—not in a kiss but a clumsy slam. It made a sound like two rocks banging together… but he was the one who reeled.

'There's no point to that, either,' the demon sighed. 'Only one of us can feel pain.'

'Shut up!' he yelled. _Slam_. 'I can't…' _Slam_. 'Lose here…' _Slam_.

By this point, he was barely conscious. But the demon's nose was broken, and she tried to stumble back. He grabbed her arms, swaying.

'Because I have to save Feyris!'

His skull collided with hers. She crumpled.

Eiri froze as Daru's bloodshot eyes turned towards her. Standing between her and the door, there was no way past him. The window was an option, being only two floors above the ground; even with gunfire still coming from the square she might have to risk it.

'Okabe,' he asked, eyes still locked on her, 'are you all right?'

The man on the floor, Okabe, rose shakily to his feet—foot—leaning on the wall for support. 'I exaggerated a little for Feyris. She didn't hit the bone, but I'm not going to be running for a while.'

'Well I have to carry her,' Daru said, jerking a thumb towards the unconscious woman, 'so—'

Though she should be grateful for anything that took their attention off her, some foolish part of the girl couldn't help asking, 'Are you going to hurt her?' As though she could do anything either way. As though the demon deserved her concern.

'That's not our intention,' Okabe told her gravely. 'Feyris was a very old and dear friend of ours before she was turned. It is our hope that she can be returned to her former state… and it is my belief that she would rather have died than be responsible for what is happening in that square.'

In all her life, the girl had never made a true decision for herself. Not when she was a child. Not when her father had died and the world had ended. Not when she'd gone to the orphanage, and not when a pink-haired woman had showed up and taken her into her care for reasons unknown. So it came as something of a shock when she heard her voice saying, 'We drove here in a car. It was kept at the back of the building.'

Almost as much of a shock as pulling Okabe's arm over her shoulders. It wasn't worth much as support—she was at least a foot shorter than him—but the sounds of gunfire were getting louder. Not enough of the soldiers had been found before they managed to break or power off their communicators; most of the crowd had likely fled already. Daru heaved Feyris face-up over his shoulder in a reverse fireman's carry, and the four of them were off.

The sounds of shouting rose up from below, and she tugged Okabe towards the back stairs. They were only a few steps down when they heard pounding feet from below. One of the Rounders turned the corner only to get Daru's knee in his stomach; the other recoiled as a gurgle as a dart flew into his windpipe.

'Don't worry,' Okabe hissed into her ear, 'they're only tranquilisers.'

She didn't bother replying. As of now, everyone in the building was her enemy (why had she done this again?), and while mass-executions had upset her she no qualms about defending herself. What really had her worried was that Commander Yoshinaga was certain to be in the building and would gun both her and them down without blinking. Accordingly she pulled Okabe forward as fast as he could go without losing his footing.

The bottom floor was chaos. The soldier had been overrun by rioters and both sides were locked in a vicious brawl. On one side, a man was slamming a Rounder's head into the wall again and again, staining it with red. On the other, a black figure and a gray writhed together on the floor, hand at each others' throats. Okabe fired at the black-uniformed Rounder but missed as they rolled over and out of sight.

A figure lay on the floor, fallen, clad all in purple. Whoever Hououin Kyouma had been, his life had been claimed by his own revolution. Eiri's eyes lingered for a moment before she forced herself to remember her priorities.

'This way,' she said, guiding them down the corridor behind the stairwell and toward the back exit. A shot rang out behind them, then another and another—executions. They sped up, Okabe hissing through his teeth as his leg buckled and nearly dragged them both to the ground. Looking back over his shoulder, Eiri saw a black-clad woman with close-cropped hair and yelped. Yoshinaga! Fear leant her manic strength, enough to physically lift Okabe and yank him around the corner. Now towing him, she burst through the back doors right behind Daru and dumped Okabe against one of the waiting jeeps.

One of the vehicles was parked next to the door; perhaps if she threw all her weight against it she could push it across the exit. Gritting her teeth, Eiri dug her heels in and heaved. But the dirt was shifting under her feet and the jeep wouldn't budge.

'Never mind that now,' she told Daru, who'd started going through Feyris' pockets. 'Help me with this, please.'

With two of them, the jeep finally began to roll forward. Not a moment too soon—the doors juddered as the Commander slammed into them. A dozen bullets pierced them a moment later, ricocheting off the vehicles and throwing up fountains of dirt wherever they hit the ground. Quickly, the two ran for one of the jeeps, where Okabe had already found Feyris' key, started the engine and ensconced himself and their captive in the back seats. Forestalling any objection to her presence, Eiri motioned to the egress, where Yoshinaga had given up on shooting through the doors and settled for ripping the weakened wood apart with her bare hands.

'Daru, just drive,' Okabe moaned.

With that, they were off, the Commander's last salvo pinging off the hardened windows. Roaring through empty streets and away from the town, the foursome were at last safe.

Mostly.

'Daru, she isn't going to be unconscious much longer and I _am_,' Okabe warned. He sounded groggy; likely only the pain had kept him awake this long.

'You don't know, like, a nerve pinch or something?'

'Alas, no. I suppose I could improvise a choke hold, but since she overpowered _you_ I don't think it has much chance of working!'

'You said you had all this planned out!'

'We're alive. So is Feyris. Ruka got out and is going to lay low with Yuki and Mayuri until this all blows over. Don't you dare complain about my planning, Daru.'

'Fine,' Daru grumbled. 'Take these.'

He fished something out of his jacket and tossed them into the back with a clink.

There was silence for a moment, then a sharp, metallic _clack_.

'Daru…'

'Yes?'

'Why … why do you own custom-built fur-lined handcuffs?'

'Weeell, that's a question with a long of answers. How about you borrow them for a while? I'm sure Makise will help you figure it out if you ask nicely.'

The girl tuned out their byplay, finally able to reflect on what a _stupid_ thing she had just done. She'd known Okabe and Daru wouldn't harm her, and neither would the Rounders. So why had she effectively consigned herself to an almost-certainly short, brutal and unpleasant life? Her gaze drifted back to the demo… her mistre… _Feyris_, just in time to see her eyelids flicker, giving Eiri a flash of gunmetal-grey eyes.

Feyris focused on her for a moment, then began inspecting the rest of the car. Her body stayed motionless and her eyes were open only the tiniest amount; if Eiri hadn't been watching so closely she would have sworn Feyris was still fast asleep. Seeing Okabe unconscious and Daru focused on driving, she looked back at Eiri and flicked her eyes twice in Daru's direction.

The signal was obvious. 'I can't do that, mistress. Sorry,' Eiri told her quietly.

'She's awake?' Daru asked, tension obvious in his voice.

'Yes.'

'So that's how it's to be, then?' The chain of Feyris' cuffs jingled, and Eiri could see her arms trembling as they exerted more force than should be humanly possible. 'Well, I hate to spoil the air of celebration, but you might want to consider surrendering now. Who knows, I might consider keeping you alive.'

'That's not going to happen. We've won this round,' Daru said.

'Won?' Feyris laughed. 'How is that, exactly? We know you now. Your faces, your methods, your plans. You fought in a place of our choosing, surrounded by our soldiers. Oh, the trick you played on those poor townsfolk was clever enough, but it can simply be rewritten. How can you possibly call it _winning_ when you've handed yourselves to us on a silver platter?'

Similar thoughts had occurred to Eiri. But she was sure that if they could be caught so easily, these two men would never have survived this long after the end of the world.

'Yeah, that's all completely true. We put our heads on the chopping block for you and Ruka, Feyris. Call it sentiment. So tell me, why've we still got them? It's been nearly half an hour since we started the attack. Why are we still here? And why have you still lost?'

'Misplaced confidence is a turn-off, Daru. For your information, the machine takes some little time to charge.'

'This long?' She was still watching Feyris so she didn't see Daru's expression, but his voice held absolute confidence. The woman's face held nothing so uncontrolled as fear or anxiety, but Eiri seemed to feel a slight crack where invincible confidence should reign supreme.

'On occasion. But unless you have truly lost your minds in the past six years, you must have some reason for this foolishness. Enlighten me.'

'Can't, sorry. This one's all on Okabe. But he did tell me one thing. They don't want you back, Feyris. You pushed too far. You got too into it. You started playing a game and you forgot why. Okabe does the same thing, some days. And even evil overlords want to look good for the masses. '

'Perhaps so,' Feyris shrugged with her arms still cuffed behind her back. 'I'll admit that my overseers can be fickle, certainly. But they still won't let you get away. And you, Eiri? Those two have knowledge and skills the council might find useful but you don't have any such protection. I employed you on a whim, and frankly it's a decision I'm currently reconsidering.' The woman smiled. 'So far, your existence has changed nothing for me, or for the world. I can erase it—and you—without any ill consequences whatsoever. Just a thought.'

Her parting sting delivered, Feyris closed her eyes again, seemingly asleep once more.

To be left alone in the orphanage for five more years… Even weighted against the fearful tightrope act of the life she'd lived with Feyris, the thought made something tighten in her stomach. Taking a breath, Eiri considered her situation logically. Feyris' actions and her words didn't make sense when correlated against each other. The threat to, essentially, erase her from her own history was almost certainly plausible. But why would Feyris resort to threats when, by her own logic, her escape (and their own failure) were guaranteed? If the events of the past half-hour could be overwritten, why not simply wait? Why bother convincing them to surrender?

As Feyris herself had taught her, there were only two answers to such a problem: either Eiri herself was missing information or Feyris was lying to them and the time machine was taking longer than she had expected. Whatever the other two had done, it seemed there would be no pursuit after all. There was still a chance for them to escape. A chance to save Feyris. Just once, Eiri could look into her eyes and see human warmth looking back.

Her lips twisted in an unfamiliar, wry smile. Who would have thought that she, of all people, would be so motivated by loyalty?

With a sigh, she let the thought go, laying her head against her arm and watching the golden fields roll by. After years spent amid the crumbling ruins of the Old World and the utilitarian blocks she and her mistress had inhabited, the sight was oddly soothing. A hill rose under them, and past it she could see many others; endless undulations under an azure sky. As she watched, the landscape slowed until Eiri could see individual stalks of corn. Frowning, she looked forward to find the reason they'd stopped: a tall red-haired woman who sat on a bulging rucksack by the side of the road, leaning against another two propped up behind her.

The jeep rolled to a halt and Daru opened the door, so that a whistling breeze carried in the sound of faint snores.

'Oi, Makise!' he yelled.

The snores cut off. The woman blinked at them, unfolding stiff limbs as she rose and made her way over.

'You brought everything?' Daru asked.

'Yes, yes. You know, when Okabe asked me to join the revolution I never pictured camping trips being involved. Where on earth did you get the jeep?' Makise asked, giving the metal a rap with her knuckles.

'A little freeloader gave us a vehicle in exchange for getting her the hell out of there. So it's your lucky day—instead of hiding out in the woods we can drive straight to Kawanuma Base and stay there until this all blows over. You can do the surgery there, right?'

She shrugged. 'If it can be done here, it can be done anywhere. You said they all have the same medical equipment, didn't you, Okabe?' She looked into the back and Eiri watched the blood drain from her face. 'Okabe!'

Daru grabbed her before she tried to physically climb over Feyris to reach him. 'Hey! It's fine! He took a bullet through the fleshy part of his leg. Trust me, most of us have had worse over the years.'

'I brought a first aid kit, it's in one of the bags! Get Okabe out and I can treat him!'

'He has a bandage, so it's not like he's going to bleed out and this isn't a safe place to be at the moment. You two can play Nurse Makise later, but for now we have to move. Got it?'

She struggled out of his arms. 'Fine. Get the bags and let's go. Use those big muscles you're always bragging about.'

'On it. Watch out for Feyris,' Daru warned as she opened the back door. 'She's stronger than she looks.'

'R-right.' Makise nodded and grabbed Feyris by the cuffed shoulders, pulling her over so she was in the rightmost seat with her face planted in the material and using the extra space to slide in next to Okabe.

'Buckle up, ladies and gentlemen,' Daru said cheerfully, 'it's going to be a long ride.

Even as he started up the engine and the jeep roared and rattled into motion, the newcomer's gaze never left her lover's face. Eiri thought Daru might have noticed too, for a small, satisfied smile was touching his lips.

The Valkyrie seemed so perceptive, finding the words that would goad the weary and resigned into action and correctly choosing to trust in her help despite the circumstances. But it was Eiri who'd known Feyris (or the demon that possessed her) for the last five years, who'd watched her with the mingled fear and adoration of a moth circling a flame, knowing that the wind must change and the warming fire send her fluttering into oblivion.

And so it was Eiri, and only Eiri, who had noticed the gleam of triumph in those lidded eyes when Feyris heard the name of Makise.

* * *

A/N: A tricky chapter to write. Firstly because of the design issues—I went with a non-FGL viewpoint to preserve mystery and to get a bit more into the feel of the thing rather than follow someone who already knows how it's all going to go down. This lead to various difficulties: you have much less reason to sympathise with an OC, and it's much harder to imply Okabe's plan than just say it out loud.

Secondly, because I wanted it to be cool! Seriously, we have cosplay, executions, rioting, psychological warfare and a knock-down brawl between Daru and a cyberpunk'd Feyris. I really wanted to try and do justice to that. Hopefully it worked.

Incidentally, the frequency of ultrasound used to disable the Rounders does actually exist. It was discovered by an engineer called Vic Tandy and is a frequent cause of paranormal experiences, resonating with the eyeballs and thus causing hallucinations whilst at the same time inducing shivering fear and depression. Though I may have exaggerated the effects somewhat.

Much love to all who reviewed, and see you next time!

TTFN

Deus


	9. Chapter 9

'Somehow,' Kurisu said, giving the motionless vehicle a kick, 'this doesn't surprise me one bit.'

'Is that so?' Okabe said. 'My dear assistant, it seems you're a cynic after all.'

'Nope. Just a pessimist. I _knew_ this was going too well,' she seethed. 'We rescued Ruka, got Feyris and you all came back more or less okay. _Of course_ the universe was going to find some way to screw us over!'

'Basically okay? Makise, I was shot! Heroically injured on the field of battle! It wouldn't kill you to be sympathetic.' Okabe pouted in distinctly unheroic fashion.

A _thump_ signified Itaru removing the last of the luggage from their—now useless—conveyance. 'You'd be surprised, dude. While you were unconscious, she was all "_Okabe! Okabe! Oh God, he's dying! Daru, stop the car so I can heal him from this tiny, tiny scratch!"_ Then you woke up and suddenly she didn't care if you live or die. Funny, that.'

Kurisu's face felt hot. 'I never said I didn't care, I just—'

'I say you should just kiss it better, myself,' Itaru said, puckering up.

Restraining the urge to attack the bulky man, she said coolly, 'Well, perhaps if you'd been less distracted by perverted fantasies you might have looked at the fuel gauge before you decided to drive us all the way out here. Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere with those two!'

"Those two" referred to the cuffed woman sitting to one side and the cold-eyed young teenager who'd come with her. Frankly, both of them gave her the creeps.

'It's not that bad,' Okabe sighed. 'Kawanuma is only three days or so away. We'll be safe there.'

'Fine,' she said, giving in. 'But you're not walking any marathons with that leg, Okabe. I can try and fix it up enough to walk on, but … it might not heal right if I do.'

Okabe shrugged. 'Needs must. Daru, see if you can't hide the jeep while Makise does … whatever it is she's going to do.'

Daru set to it, grunting as he started to roll the vehicle off the road, while Kurisu rummaged around in the bags for her the medical kit she'd thrown together.

'This might sting a bit,' she warned, pulling out a bottle of alcohol and soaking it into cotton wool.

'Makise, I have a bullet wound in my leg. Analgesics aside, a bit of stinging is the last of my worriEEEES!—'

'Told you,' she said, dabbing at his wound. The task was made rather more difficult by the need for Okabe to be able to keep his tranquiliser pistol trained on Feyris at all times, forcing Kurisu to practically lie in his lap in order to work.

'You said it would sting, not bloody burn like… Kurisu, what are you doing with that!' he shouted as she took out a bottle of superglue she'd found in the lab and started squeezing it into the gory hole in his leg.

'Oh, it's a trick my mother taught me.' Where her father had enjoyed debate (if only until she became too closely his equal), her mother had loved to tell her stories: tales of childhood, of romance and even the tragedies of war. Perhaps that was why the two of them had been so much closer despite having so much less in common.

This didn't seem to comfort Okabe. 'When I agreed to let you fix my leg up, I didn't realise you were going by old wives' tales!' he protested, before shrinking back under her glare.

'For your information, it works perfectly well. Soldiers used to do it in Vietnam.'

Finished, she screwed the cap back on and chucked it back into the bag.

'See? Now all I have to do is sew it up and it'll be… well, not as good as new, but you won't tear it apart by walking on it.'

The needle was blunter than was ideal and even with the painkillers he'd taken, Okabe was visibly wincing as she began to stitch the wound back together. 'As if I were not perforated enough already. And must it be this damnable shade?'

She smiled, feeling a little impish, and patted him on the thigh. 'What? The legendary Hououin Kyouma can't pull off pink?'

'O-Of course I can.' The affronted look on his face set her almost to giggling, which made it worse. 'I can!' She just laughed harder, enjoying the moment while she could. Goodness knew how quickly they could pass.

Okabe pulled a twisted, battered black oblong from his pocket and whispered urgently into it. 'Code Red! They're trying a new tactic—an agent sent to ruin my heroic reputation! Send back-up before she destroys me comp—hey!'

Kurisu inspected the pilfered phone in fascination. The screen was dead, of course, and there was no sound from it. 'Wow, this is a relic. I don't suppose it still works?'

'Surprisingly enough, my contract doesn't cover the apocalypse. I shielded it from the EM pulses, but the networks are down for good. Makes coordinating a rebellion a nightmare, I'll tell you that. We were considering messenger pigeons, but…' He shook himself and raised the gun (which had started to droop) back at Feyris. 'Well. Another time.'

'Okabe?' Kurisu asked, unable to help herself. 'You _do_ know I'm not an agent, right? I mean… That is to say… Lots of things have happened in the past few weeks. I guess I want to know if you trust me.'

He considered her for a moment. 'I—'

'Oookay, the jeep is down the hill and I covered it over with branches and stuff, so nobody's gonna find it any time soon.' Daru strolled across the road, dusting his hands. 'Hup, hup, grap the bags and let's go before they started searching this far out! Strange Girl, you get the lightest pack. You two—Okabe's all fixed up, so lovey-dovey on your own time. Feyris, try anything and I will tranq you before you take a single step, hear me?'

Feyris stood without a word, still smiling faintly as though at a private joke. Kurisu shuddered. She couldn't ever catch the woman looking at her, but her skin crawled horribly whenever she turned her back to her. Shaking it off, she gave Okabe a hand up. 'You okay?' she asked.

'Yeah… It hurts like hell but I can walk. Thanks, I guess.'

Kurisu watched Daru shoo their two 'captives' into a march, hefting her own bag with a grimace. 'Thank me by never, ever, making me do this again. Shall we?'

* * *

The light fell quickly as the little band trudged through the wilderness of Japan. Once, it had probably been tended fields, but with so much farm machinery destroyed by the Organisation (either from 'Judgement Day' or simply the loss of most of the manufacturing industry) the area was no longer tenable and the plots had rapidly been reclaimed by rapacious greenery. Now they were overgrown with knotweed and tangled undergrowth, so much so that Daru had to go in the lead and trample a path for them while she helped Okabe limp his way through. Feyris was guarded in the middle and the girl who accompanied her hung back at the rear of the group. Letting Nature take its course did have some upsides, however, as here and there meadow flowers could be spotted amongst the brush; little splashes of colour against the greens and the browns.

The moon was still thin, but the milky light of thousands of stars lit their path well enough to continue through the night while the Pole Star glittered overhead to guide them over field after field. Looking upward, Kurisu couldn't help but remember the skies of her childhood, illuminated only by the sickly glow of millions of lights below. At least her work had done one good thing for this world. Distracted, her foot slipped in a hollow and she nearly toppled, saved only by Okabe's grip around her shoulders.

'Sorry!' she hissed as he gasped from the pain of putting weight on his injured leg.

'Can you … hah … keep going?'

'I'm fine. Promise,' she whispered back, and they carried on in silence.

But as time wore on and the moon traversed the heavens, her feet began to feel leaden in their shoes. Not that she was the worst off: though Itaru seemed indefatigable, Okabe's breathing was laboured in her ear and the other two were even worse, not having the benefit of hours of enforced manual labour every day to keep up their stamina. The girl had obviously been exempted and was visibly struggling when Kurisu looked back at her, though she hadn't let it slow her down in the slightest. As for Feyris…

'Yes, I think that's quite enough for today.' Having delivered her verdict, Feyris suited words to actions by sitting down with a thump. Caught by surprise, Kurisu and Okabe took a few more steps before the action registered and they staggered to a halt.

'Feyris, I will tranquilise you again if I have to,' Okabe said quietly.

'And I'll drag you,' Itaru promised.

Feyris smiled. 'Go ahead. Having you do all the work sounds wonderfully convenient. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I still don't feel pain. So good luck trying to make me do anything else tonight. Eiri, we're stopping now.'

The girl seemed to consider that for a moment, before she too lowered herself to the ground.

Okabe's grip on her shoulders tightened dangerously, but before he could say anything Kurisu whispered into his ear, 'Okabe, you idiot, you've been shot. I know we need to move fast, but if you don't rest now you won't even be able to move tomorrow. It's a miracle we made it this far and you know it.'

He seemed about to argue, but finally said, 'Right. Everyone settle down, then. Makise, did you bring the food?'

'Yes, yes.' She rummaged in her back and brought out two loaves of bread. 'Here.'

'That's it? Makise, how far's that going to go with five people?'

'Well, maybe if you'd spent more time helping in the fields and less in the labor—' she caught herself, glancing at the silent figure of the chipped Feyris, '—downstairs, we'd have more to spare! But you didn't, so this is all we've got. And why, exactly, do we have five people anyway? Since when was the plan to bring random people along with you?'

'I told you before,' Itaru interrupted, 'she made it a condition of getting us the jeep.'

'Because that worked out _so_ well.'

He glared at her in the near-darkness. 'Okay, so it turned out pretty inconvenient, but she followed through on her end and here we are.'

'Hmph. And it had nothing to do with her being a pretty girl _at all_,' Kurisu sniffed.

'I'm married! Also, Feyris tried the whole seduction routine and couldn't pull it off, so no way a scrawny girl who's only about eight years older than my actual daughter is going to—'

'Why, Daru, I'm flattered,' Feyris purred. 'Now, while thoughts of me are floating around in your head, why not consider exactly how I'm supposed to eat with my hands cuffed behind my back?'

'Sure. With difficulty.'

'Or you could un-cuff me and I'll give my word of honour not to try anything. Plus, Okabe still has a gun pointed at my back, does he not?'

'Of course I do,' Okabe said stonily. 'The chipped don't have honour. Just directives.'

Before anything else could be said, the girl rendered the point moot by breaking a piece off her loaf and offering it to Feyris with the cautious air of a zookeeper tending an injured beast.

'Okay, that's just creepy,' Kurisu said, watching the two, only to recoil at the look the girl sent her way. It wasn't anger, just a strange apathy that studied her and filed her away before the girl turned back to her self-appointed task.

'…I owe her,' she said, almost too low to hear.

Okabe clapped his hands. 'Well, eat and then get some sleep, all of you. We need to get a lot further tomorrow.'

'Yeah, including you,' Itaru pointed out. 'I'll take first watch. Makise can take second.'

Kurisu fumed. 'Don't go volunteering me for things! I mean, obviously I'll do it—I'm the only other one here who's trustworthy and not dead on my feet, but still!'

'Volunteer?' Itaru crossed his arms. 'They call it conscription where we come from. Sleep while you can.'

Muttering to herself, Kurisu dragged herself a little way from the others and settled down, until the snap of twig brought her jerking back up again.

'Mind if I join you?' The voice was Okabe's, roughened by badly-hidden pain and fatigue.

'It's a free forest,' she said lightly. 'Grab a trunk.'

The shadowy figure rustled out of her line of sight, sitting on the other side of the same tree. She leant back on the trunk that separated them and waited for him to settle. 'If I ask you how we really escaped, will you tell me?'

There was a long silence, which she bore patiently, before he spoke.

'Yes, I think so. Though for what it's worth, I suggest you don't.'

'Maybe. Still, I want to know.'

A long exhalation. The sound of catharsis. 'Ahhh, Makise… I've done a very selfish thing today. And telling you, burdening you with this, that's almost as bad.' He chuckled. 'You know, being a hero, being Hououin Kyouma, was pretty easy. I decided what needed to be done, and I did it. And it hurt. But I carried on, because it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do… You're making me be selfish again, Makise, and it's tearing me apart. Myself or the world; a man can't serve two masters.'

'Okabe,' she said gently, 'you're trying to distract me.'

He carried on, ignoring her. 'Really, this is much your fault as it is mine. After all, none of it could—would—have happened without you … so maybe it's all right to tell you.'

'Okabe.'

'I gave the Organisation a show. Had Moeka tap their systems, then dressed up in that ridiculous outfit I had Mayuri make. All of those people … I used them as a distraction, Makise. There were too many soldiers for me to get through, so I used the crowd as a shield. They'd just been betrayed by the only constant they had left; it wasn't difficult to turn their anger against the Organisation. Unarmed men and women, fighting against the best forces the Organisation can offer … I don't suppose many of them survived, even with my little tricks.'

His tone was cynical, mocking. The voice of a man without illusions, who looked in the mirror and hated what he saw.

'Of course, the costume went on one of the corpses. When the Organisation looks into it, they'll find it, they'll know exactly who was responsible, and they'll know he's dead. For losing a flunky who embarrassed them, they gain the head of Hououin Kyouma himself. Why would they interfere with that?'

Kurisu turned to the side, letting the living bark press against her skin. Her eyelids closed. 'There's more.'

No. I told you I wouldn't deceive you anymore.'

'Then you lied.'

'Kurisu, what else do you want me to say?! That's what happened. That's the truth.'

His anger was false. A deflection. She continued.

'Even if you stirred them up, their decisions and their actions were their own. But there's so much guilt in your voice. I can hear it. What did you do to sound like that, Okabe?'

When it came, his voice was quiet and sorrowful. She wished she could see his expression.

'I betrayed the Valkyrie. It was the only way to make them believe the body was actually me. So I took the spare phone we were using to test the Nostalgia Drive and I made it look like a PDA I'd been using, full of the details of our operations. Then I left it in the costume's pocket.'

For the first time, it was Kurisu who was struck speechless. This wasn't what she wanted. She'd begged him to stop making sacrifices, just the once, to save everyone and be happy! To do the impossible! Not this. Never this.

'How many?' she heard herself ask.

'About half.'

More lives to add to her tally. Strange… she'd never even fired a gun yet hundreds died for every word she spoke.

'…then you were right. This is my fault.'

'Please don't mistake spite for truth, Makise… You were right—I couldn't have taken any more. If I'd lost Ruka and Feyris, well, I think that would be the end of it for me. Settle down, maybe, become a farmer and desperately hope not to lose anyone else. So thanks, Kurisu. Whatever the consequences, you did save me.'

The words nested in her chest, warming her. 'That's the second time you've called me that name.'

'I know,' he said with a semblance of good cheer. 'Maybe I'll make a habit of it.'

'Maybe you should.' A moment later, her own words ran through her head and she blushed so hard that, had they possessed infrared scanners, the Organisation could have located them on the spot.

Okabe yawned. '…I'm glad we rescued you.'

'I guess putting up with you was better than being shot,' she grumbled, closing her eyes. 'If only just.'

If a reply ever came, she was too deep in sleep to hear it.

* * *

_Kurisu was running through Tokyo again. Struggling against her own fatigue, a makeshift weapon clutched tightly in one hand. Ahead of her, she knew the soldiers waited, but something drove her to keep running. Her nails scrabbled at the brick, trying to slow her, but she continued the headlong rush to her own destruction._

_A hand clamped around her arm._

She bolted upright, only to find the grip was real. Itaru was faintly visible above her, having just shaken her awake.

'Your turn on duty,' he whispered, handing her a pistol, presumably filled with tranquilisers. 'Feyris is asleep, but don't let her get too close. Don't listen to anything she says, either. She'll get into your head if you let her.' With his face so close to hers, Kurisu could see the frown that had entrenched itself across Itaru's forehead. The man looked far more careworn than he had at their impromptu meal—whatever he had heard, it had not been to his liking. 'Anyway, just go before she wakes up.'

'Man, I'm knackered,' she heard him mutter as he settled down in the leaf litter.

Feyris was sleeping in the clearing, planted against one of the trees with her forehead set on her knees. It was a tense posture, hardly conducive to sleep, but one that reminded Kurisu of a cat coiling to spring rather than the fearful huddle of a kidnap victim.

Settling down into a vaguely comfortable position, Kurisu checked over the pistol Itaru had given her. Okabe and Itaru had been reluctant to instruct her or allow her to use their improvised firing range (through their motives were very different) but this didn't seem to be a complicated mechanism. The safety was off, and the butt of the pistol was textured and easy to grip; holding it with two hands, as she'd read so long ago, she sighted at the prisoner…

… meeting a pair of steel-gray eyes. A gaze that seemed to pierce her, hook her with cruel barbs and draw her in. No wonder the Organisation had sought this woman out—she radiated a terrible charisma. Even abducted and with her hands restrained behind her back, the woman remained absolutely in command.

'Well, if it isn't Makise Kurisu,' Feyris smiled. 'So I was right—you did have help escaping Tokyo.'

Kurisu held her face as blank as she could. This was the woman responsible for Okabe's wound, and the bruises on Itaru. With a shudder, she remembered the livid marks she'd seen on his arms, the neat patterns produced by five fingers gripping hard enough to burst blood vessels beneath the skin. If she lowered her guard, even for a second…

'Although I'm a little disappointed in you. From one of the foremost scientists we had on record, to a grubby little vigilante struggling against … what? Order? Peace? Hardly. You showed you aren't the type to fight for your beliefs right back at the beginning, didn't you? No, I think you just want to fuck—'

A dart slammed into the wood behind Feyris. One inch to the left and it would have been her eye.

'Shut up,' Kurisu hissed. 'You don't know anything, _anything_, about me.'

'Don't I? You were in our labs for thirteen years, Kurisu. Every face you saw, every meal you ate, every single stimulus you experienced in all that time was under our control. We don't just know you, Kurisu, we _made _you.'

She tried to ignore the voice, concentrating on stilling the tremble of her hands. Feyris could just sleep the rest of her shift away.

'Don't even think about it, Kurisu,' Feyris snapped. 'You don't have enough friends to make an enemy of me.'

'I'm already your enemy,' Kurisu said, but she didn't fire.

'You're a tool that fell on the ground. Useful, but not worth the effort of reclaiming. But with the company you keep, well, you're steadily working your way up to being a problem. And problems have to be dealt with.'

'You can't hurt me.' Technically untrue. But if Feyris so much as blinked, Kurisu would fire.

'I don't have to.' The other woman smiled again, which is to say that white teeth could be glimpsed between her lips.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. 'Meaning what?'

'Oh, Kurisu. Dear, sweet Kurisu. You haven't told them, have you? I can see it in your eyes. What do you think they'll do when I tell them who you _really_ are?'

So that was it. Everything that Kurisu had hoped to bury had finally come back to bite her. The world span, and she gripped the pistol like an anchor. Tranquilisers were strange things, a part of her mused. A single dart was all it took to force someone from the waking world into dreamless sleep. But a few more… and they'd never wake up.

_Okabe would be sad,_ a memory reminded her. Mayuri, Yuki, Itaru. They'd lose their friend a second time. Was protecting herself worth the pain of those she cared about?

The answer she found sickened her.

But if she killed Feyris, she'd have to explain why. Maybe she could convince them that the woman had attacked her. Maybe not. Life or death; either way she risked losing everything.

'Now,' Feyris said, observing her struggle with a strange, detached interest. 'There's no need for that. I can give you everything you want… and all you have to do is take off these cuffs. Tell them I caught you off guard. I can escape, Regress a message and the me of the past will capture all of you in Iida.'

'What are you, c-crazy? H-how is any of that what I want?!'

'All of you will be sentenced to 'punishment' labour in a fertile area. I won't chip you. I won't even interrogate you. You'll live out the rest of your lives together in peace, free of war and free of pain. A long and pleasant dream, which is all we really want for humanity in the end. And the best part is, you won't ever have to remember this conversation. A happy ending, with no guilt at all.'

'You're lying,' she said, clutching the pistol like a lifeline. 'The chip forces you to be loyal to the Organisation; you can't betray them like that even to save yourself!'

'Do you still not understand,' Feyris asked gently, 'how little you matter to us? We've won, Kurisu. We won a long time ago. My masters won't suffer from this. And sometimes it suits us to keep our promises.'

It was tempting. More tempting than it should have been. She was a scientist, not a warrior; she'd known that since she made her first bargain with the devil, thirteen years ago. Except that one doubt remained. Feyris was wrong—she would never have an ending free of guilt, not when this whole world was a monument to her sin. The sin of creating a time machine, the sin of giving in, the sin of the young woman she'd helped twist into this monster that now whispered in her ear. Sin that demanded atonement. But still…

Her lips trembled, struggling to form an answer. What, even she didn't know.

But Feyris' eyes, dark with triumph, suddenly slid aside. Forgotten and unnoticed until now, the girl Eiri was waking. With barely a mumble, her eyes slid open to regard them both with sombre deliberation.

'I can watch her now, if you like,' she offered after a second of this. 'I don't sleep much.'

Kurisu's heart was pounding in her chest, almost as if to tug her away from the scene, and Kurisu handed her the tranquiliser gun as though it were burning her fingers before practically sprinting out of the clearing.

Above, the first fingers of dawn's light were threading themselves through the gloom. Her respite would be short indeed.

* * *

A/N: Well, this took a while. Partly because the heatwave we had here pretty much fried my synapses for two weeks, partly because of my new job as a research assistant … but mostly because the chapter _after_ this turned out to be literally twice as long. So that's something to look forward to ;) Also, feels are harder to get right than stuff blowing up.

Anyway, my warmest thanks to everyone who reviewed (I have a suspicion I didn't remember to thank you all, see above re heatwave) and my love to everyone who's enjoying the story! Anon, I hear what you say about cliffhangers—I don't plan to abuse them—much—but I admit I prefer to have the plot constantly moving forward and the chapter endings reflect that, as here.

TTFN

Deus.


	10. Chapter 10

It soon became apparent that her problems had compounded in the night. Rising groggy with the sunrise, she found Okabe still sleeping. His breath was laboured, while the wound in his leg had grown swollen and inflamed. Resting his forehead against her own, she found him feverish.

At that moment, his eyes opened. They were inches from her own, and she had to fight down the impulse to leap backwards (or shove him, were it not for his wounded state). 'Good morning,' she greeted him instead, without moving.

'G-good morning, Kurisu,' Okabe stuttered. 'Um, is this a new thing, o-or…'

'You have a temperature,' she told him plainly, finding that if she ignored the blush that was steadily conquering her features it was rather pleasant to have _him_ flustered over _her_, for once. And her instincts whispered that if Feyris did let slip her secret, his affection might be all that stood between her and…

Kurisu shivered, despite the warmth of the day, removing herself before Okabe could feel it.

'I must have got the treatment wrong,' she muttered. 'Sorry.'

'Oh, pish posh. If it weren't for you, I'd not even be able to stand. A little fever is fair recompense.'

He hauled himself up and wobbled alarmingly. Seeing Kurisu tense, he quickly added, 'I'm fine. A little woozy, but I'm sure some food will help.'

'All right,' she agreed, quietly resolving to keep an eye on him. 'That girl, Eiri, is up already and I can take of Itaru.'

Suiting actions to words, she snapped a handy stick from a tree. Finding Itaru sprawled out in the moss, she jabbed him in the ribs until he grunted and smacked it away.

'It's morning. Breakfast's being handed out; get there soon or your portion might just vanish mysteriously.'

'Hey, you can't do that!'

'Having more biomass, you should be able to withstand starvation for significantly longer periods than the rest of us. Up.' The back-and-forth between them was almost as easy as with Okabe but conversations with Itaru had always been a little more acerbic. Tainted by blame on one side and fear on the other.

Leaving his protests behind, she headed back to the clearing. Everyone was awake now, gnawing on chunks of bread that were—she discovered as she took her own—becoming increasingly stale, enough that she had to wash them down with a gulp of water from one of the flasks.

'How much is left?' she asked Okabe surreptitiously.

'Two meals, maybe three if we can stretch it, and then we're fending for ourselves,' he murmured back. 'I wasn't expecting this level of physical activity, and having another mouth to feed doesn't help.'

Great. Another problem.

Her brooding was interrupted by a flick to the centre of her furrowed brow. 'There's no call to look so glum,' Okabe teased. 'We're all in good enough condition to take a couple of days without food if we absolutely have to. And there's always the possibility of hunting to consider. Just because I'm a scientist at heart doesn't mean I can't caveman with the best of them.'

'Now that, I'd like to see,' she laughed. He gave her a relieved grin and started attacking his lump of bread again. Kurisu smiled for a moment, until she caught Feyris' eyes watching her from across the clearing and found her happiness suddenly drained away at the ultimatum that had presented to her.

A single day was all she had to find her answer. To betray her friends by killing or freeing Feyris, or be betrayed to them in turn. If only she had more time! Kurisu mulled it over as she chewed on her lump of bread, and found her gaze drifting to the new girl.

Yes, that might work.

Itaru was busy packing up and Okabe was busy keeping an eye on Feyris. Taking advantage of their distraction, she drew Eiri aside.

'Hello. Did you want something?' the girl asked.

'Eh?' Kurisu said, thrown a little by her blunt manner. 'Actually, I was going to thank you for earlier.'

'It was no trouble.'

'_Aaand_ I was going to ask if you might be up for watching over her for the next few days. She ... scares me a little,' Kurisu admitted. 'But you seem to be a lot more comfortable with her.'

Eiri frowned. 'She scares me too. Maybe more, because I know her better. I suppose I'm just used to it.'

Something in Kurisu clenched at the way the girl spoke; her bland acceptance of whatever fear and suffering she had experienced under the Organisation. It was all the worse because Kurisu knew for herself how it happened. The fear was still there, but she learned to function despite it. The thought of the girl—the child—in front of her having to experience that make her stomach turn.

But Eiri would certainly suffer consequences if Feyris managed to escape. That helped ease Kurisu's guilt at using her, a little. 'You're struggling with the cross-country, right? I'll take your turn carrying a pack in the day if you'll take my watch at night.'

Eiri thought it over, then shrugged. 'All right.'

The relief that ensued from those two words only drew attention to the creeping anxiety that had come before: her shoulders loosened, her breath eased and her posture was a little less poised to flee. Now she might be able to escape from where she was stuck between the two sides of this war.

She gave Eiri a quick nod of gratitude and fled the girl's presence with a speed that verged on the impolite.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, they came upon a way to replenish their supplies. Navigating by the sun, the five of them had spent the last half-hour trudging along the edge of the forest until they could find some cover that headed in the appropriate direction. Not only was this easier going, with less of the twisting and malevolent undergrowth that seemed to grow solely for the purpose of entangling exhausted explorers, but it gave them an exceptional view down from the wooded ridge. And so they were in a perfect position to spot the isolated farmstead, sheltered as it was in the lee of the valley.

As with so many things, this was both a blessing and a curse. The wide, open fields that made the place so visible also made it impossible to approach without being seen from miles away. They'd heard the pulses of helicopter rotors pass overhead several times already, and only been saved from detection by the thick canopy above them.

Strange, how unimportant that dilemma seemed when faced with the prospect of marching on an empty stomach.

'Wait till twilight and approach from the west, use the sun as cover and stay in the shadow of the hills,' Itaru summed up. 'S'pose it's worth a shot.'

'If Okabe can make it that far,' Kurisu retorted, folding her arms. The invincible leader of the Future Gadget Lab had been deteriorating all day; what was once a mild temperature had progressed to a full-on fever and his limp had worsened to the point where they'd been forced to stop and find a tree-limb thick enough to use as a crutch. 'I still don't see why you can't just go on your own.'

'Sure, and get belted on the back of the head. I need him to charm the locals.'

'The goal is to steal food from them! How could he possibly 'charm' them into not caring about that? You're, what, six-foot-something? You'll be fine.'

'Fortunately, I am still in control of my faculties and thus able to decide for myself,' Okabe cut in, sounding horribly weak to her ears. 'Kurisu … I appreciate the thought, but I've been walking for most of a day. I can manage a little stroll.'

And to think, only two days ago she'd been encouraging him to do _more_ stupid things…

'Fine,' she huffed. 'But I'm coming too. That's the condition. Take it or leave it.'

'Actually, I was hoping you'd take care of Feyris and Eiri…'

Alone with those two? So _not_ going to happen.

'Okabe, I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. If that means dragging _her_ along, so be it.'

His mouth opened, and she lifted a finger in warning. 'Ah!'

'Look, Makise—'

'Ah!' She deployed the other hand against Itaru, who had spoken up second. 'After all _someone_ has to watch out for you idiots.'

And that, as they say, was that.

* * *

Accordingly, dusk found her creeping through a field of wilted maize like some Wild West bandit (which really wasn't so far from the truth, now was it?). The task was made more difficult by the low height of the crop in question, which forced her to all but crawl in order to stay hidden. Feyris and Eiri were small enough to remain almost invisible even when standing, while Okabe suffered right alongside her and Itaru… well, his problems had less to do with height and more to do with the width of the wake he left behind.

By the time they reached the house, it was obvious that there was no one watching. The sunlight was fading fast yet the windows remained dark, not a hint of candlelight to be seen. A rusting hoe protruded from the courtyard. The walls were steadily being overgrown and vegetation had begun to creep across the doorway.

Itaru stepped forward to the portal. Thin wood offered no resistance, splintering under his fist. He stumbled back as the door shattered, hacking as though trying to force something from his lungs. A moment later, it hit the rest of them. A putrid stench, issuing forth as if from a wound. The house itself seemed to be rotten.

'Hello!' Itaru possessed the loudest voice of them, though this time his bellow received no reply. 'Anyone there?'

'Daru…' Okabe hobbled up, laying a calming hand on his shoulder.

'Yeah, I know. Had to try.'

One by one, they entered. Kurisu pressed her muddy sleeve to her mouth, muffling the odour of decay with the gritty taste of earth. At least with nobody home they wouldn't have to worry about leaving witnesses, although their chances of finding supplies had just dropped from certain to nearly nothing. As Okabe prodded Feyris into one of the front rooms, with Eiri trailing after them, she decided to investigate the back of the house.

Carefully, she slid aside an old-fashioned partition. Inside all was dark, with the remnants of the rusty sunset spilling over the floor—not enough to pierce the gloom but enough to turn the atmosphere surreal and dreamlike.

Squinting, she made out the vague form of a long table, surrounded by what must be chairs. Trying to make some sense out of the indistinct shapes, she stepped forward into the room. As the angle of her view changed, several things became clear.

Two points of bloody light reflecting from bilious white orbs.

More light, glittering off teeth exposed by withered lips.

The shape of a head.

Slowly, horribly, her gaze was drawn down to the emaciated form of the house's former owner.

Kurisu Makise screamed.

A crash echoed from upstairs; she barely heard it as the stink of rot closed a fist around her trachea. Literally rooted to the spot, she stared into the face of a grinning corpse as her very guts contracted.

With a start, she tore herself free, her lungs gasping in a breath and releasing it as a shriek. She ran. Out of the door, slamming into Okabe as her ran to her and clawing past him to fall into the yard and retch in mindless horror.

Ill-fed as she was, nothing came up. She could only mewl and claw at the ground, uselessly trying to purge herself. Dimly, she heard Okabe's voice calling to her. 'Kurisu! Are you all right?' His hand grabbed her by the shoulder; a warm and indubitably living weight. Bit by bit, she began to pull herself together.

'I'm fine,' she said once she had her voice under control. 'Just … caught off guard for a moment.'

'But what happened?!'

Itaru poked his head out of the door and coughed. 'Looks like she found the master of the house. Don't know how long he's been there, but the time has _not_ been kind to him.'

Okabe sighed and stood. 'I'll take a look. Stay out here a bit, would you?'

'I don't need a babysitter,' Kurisu protested, drawing the tattered remnants of her dignity around her.

'No worries, I got her.' Itaru waved him off.

'I told you, I don't need—' Indignation helped to block out the memory of that agonised visage ~_clenched teeth held together by rotting muscle~_ but her stomach still felt like she'd been punched and her legs were too weak to hold her.

'For God's sake, I'm not some sheltered little girl!' she spat, perhaps at Itaru or perhaps at herself.

'Not exactly the maturest of women either,' Daru snickered. ''Sides, I've seen guys and girls a lot older than you chucking their guts up, it's pretty standard. Ever seen a dead body before?'

'…No,' she admitted slowly. Death was something she considered herself accustomed to. She had been threatened with it, haunted by more than anyone in human history. She had, once, in her very darkest hour, wished it for herself. But she was nonplussed to realise that she had never once experienced it in person.

'Well then. Bound to happen. Shows you have human feelings is all. Just think of it like a learning experience; better to freak out now than when it's actually important, right?'

'Itaru…' she said, still bent over a little puddle of sputum, 'I appreciate the thought but can you just … not say anything for a bit?'

'Gotcha.'

They stayed like that for a little while, her struggling to rise while he looked on in silence.

'Hey, Makise, there's something bugging me.' She ignored him, understandably preoccupied trying to deal with the last five minutes, but he continued anyway. 'Didn't I once tell you to call me Daru?'

'Once, yes,' she replied, having no other choice.

'My friends call me Daru.'

She knew. Why did he think she'd stopped?

An object entered her field of view; a hand, broader than Okabe's and callused from hard labour. Hesitantly, Kurisu gave it hers and was hauled up in a second, her arm aching from the force.

'Oh. Um. Thanks, Daru,' she said quietly, and waited for him to grin and look away before grabbing the hoe that still stood up from the earth—at that moment she couldn't stand on her own two feet if the world depended on it. But the weakness sprang from a different memory now…

'_You haven't told them, have you?'_

The creak of the door opening startled her from her reverie as Feyris exited, shadowed by the armed Eiri and with Okabe limping in the rear. His eyes darted to hers and she smiled weakly as Daru asked, 'So what did you find in there?'

'As a conservative estimate, I'd judge that he's been dead for a week now, maybe two. Unfortunately, he's pretty thin; the cause of death was likely starvation. Look at the state of those crops.'

'Poor bastard… Not going to be stacking on supplies here, then,' Daru said gloomily.

'Afraid not,' Feyris spoke up, her eyes hooded. 'Though I dare say your bulk is enough to sustain you for some time yet; the rest of us too if anyone's open to cannibalism. You'll be burying the man next to his daughter, I assume?'

Kurisu didn't want to ask, but Feyris must have seen the question in her eyes because she replied anyway. 'A photo upstairs. And most people don't leave good farm implements stuck in the ground. That,' she said, pointing at the hoe Kurisu was still resting on, 'is a grave marker. You're standing on her.'

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did she yelped and leapt back as though the ground had grown scalding beneath her feet. A look showed her that Daru had also reacted badly, seeming to expand a little as every muscle in his body tensed. Even Eiri's lips thinned.

'That keen to dig the knife in, Feyris?' Okabe asked tightly. 'I didn't expect remorse, given your condition, but I never knew such petty malice dwelt in my friend's heart.'

The woman's brows drew together as she turned back to look at the rotting derelict. 'If he'd had the sense to contact us, he would have been saved. Moved, no doubt—this place is far too isolated to be run efficiently—but a collective farm would have been able to feed him and his daughter. Yet out of sentiment, he chose to stay here and paid the price for that decision. Considering your current situation, I'd say it makes a rather nice cautionary tale, wouldn't you agree?' She turned piercing eyes on them. Correction: on her, and on Daru. 'Hardly petty.'

Okabe glared at her. 'We aren't dead yet. Come on, everyone, there's nothing here for us.'

'What?' Daru asked. 'We're burying him first, right?'

'No. The Organisation will search this place sooner or later and I don't want to leave an obvious sign we were here.'

'We're burying him next to his daughter if I have to dig the grave with my own bare hands,' Daru growled and though it was clear he wanted to, Okabe didn't argue.

A shovel was found, a hole dug. Kurisu forced herself to watch as Daru entered the house and carried out the chair with its grisly occupant; his improvised bier borne to the grave and tipped to send all that was left of the nameless man to his final resting place. Dirt tumbled into the hole, covering him, and was patted down to cover the scar in the land. At the foot of the grave, in the lee of the wind, they placed the photograph.

Daru returned the shovel to wherever he had found it, leaving both graves together under a single marker, and set off back the way they'd come, for the hills. 'I won't be like you,' is what he muttered to the smiling man in the photograph.

Okabe's lips moved silently and though she could not read them she knew the words they formed. 'I will save you,' is what he said to that man's round-faced, blushing daughter as she squirmed out of her father's arms.

'I'm sorry,' are the words Kurisu didn't dare say, witnessing all that was left of two lives. She would have, yet for the first time she was struck by the weight of those two words—if the end of a single life was so far beyond her understanding, how could she hope to comprehend the death of millions? How could they mean anything to her? Had her remorse been a sham all along? Kurisu had no answers, and followed the other two quietly.

Only Feyris and Eiri remained in that place. They said nothing at all, and a long minute passed before they turned and walked away into the withered fields. Behind them, the house vanished into the growing dark.

* * *

_Kurisu slept poorly that night, dreaming that she ran through Tokyo again in her desperate flight. __But now the dead of that necropolis remained, rotting, emaciated creatures that groped for her with bilious blind eyes and pallid hands. For the first time, she fought them, knocking them aside and treading their remains into the ground as she battled towards the place where she knew her friends waited for her. _

Perhaps she escaped, perhaps she didn't; either way Kurisu awoke tired and irritable, with an empty hole in her stomach that gnawed at her insides. Moreover, Okabe had worsened overnight—his wound was red and swollen, inflamed flesh puckering around the thread that bound the wound together and gleaming with dewdrops of clear pus. The man himself twisted and turned, mumbling something distressed and incoherent as she took hold of his shoulder and shook him awake.

'Kurisu!' he yelled, half-dreaming eyes twisted by a look of terrible betrayal and suspicion—enough to make her jerk back in fright. 'Kurisu…' he muttered again, before shaking his head and seeming to become a little more lucid. 'Sorry. Fever dreams, I think. Not pleasant.'

'You aren't the only one,' she said. 'I think that anyone who could sleep easy with everything that's going on would scare me a lot more than you yelling at me in my sleep, you know?'

Okabe chuckled weakly. 'Hah. Maybe. I know I always thought having hallucinations would be a lot more fun than this. Is there any food left?'

'There was a bit, remember? Enough for breakfast, at least.' She winced, looking with distress at the results of her improvised surgery. 'How about you sit here. I'll bring you some.'

Okabe flushed, and not with fever. 'Th-that's very thoughtful of you, assistant, but we still have a long way to go and I need to be able to walk. Just … give me a hand up.'

Rifling through her bag, Kurisu discovered the last of their rations: enough bread to hold in her closed hand and half a flask of water. They split a fragment of the bread equally between them, but she took only a single gulp of the water before passing it to Okabe, who regarded it doubtfully.

'Don't make those eyes, idiot, this isn't some noble gesture. You have a fever, so you'll dehydrate faster than me. Drink, or you'll just slow us down later.'

'True,' he admitted, downing most of it, 'but the same is going to be true of all of us before long. If we don't find water soon, I don't know if we'll reach Kawanuma... and time spent looking will be wasted if we fail.'

'We'll keep an eye out,' she promised him, before a loud yawn interrupted the conversation.

Daru emerged from the forest. 'Yo, any food left?'

'Precious little, I'm afraid.'

'Brilliant,' he grouched, tossing the morsel of bread down his throat and following it up with all but the dregs of the water bottle. 'So what do we do now? Just keep walking and hope we don't collapse on the way?'

'That, and find more water,' Kurisu said, not rising to the acidic tone.

'Water's great and all, but we need to find food, Makise! And enough joking about my size; we can't keep trudging through the woods all day on an empty stomach and you know it! Hell, we don't really know how much further it is. For all we know, Kawanuma's another week away … or we could get off-course and walk straight past it.'

'We push on,' Okabe said, and tired as he was… injured, as he was… he stood tall. 'You're exhausted and you're hungry; we all are. But we aren't lost and we _are_ going to make it to Kawanuma. You'll see Yuki and Suzuha soon, I promise you.'

'Your promises got us into this mess,' Daru muttered as he started packing the bags, though he sounded somewhat mollified.

Kurisu tried, she really did, but couldn't help muttering, 'Or perhaps it was accepting rides from pretty girls.'

'Hear that, Eiri?' said a familiar voice, playful in the manner of a cat with a cornered mouse, while Daru glared. 'Your enchantments have claimed another victim.'

Kurisu stiffened, forcing herself not to look but unable to keep her eyes from sliding to the right. As before, Eiri was holding a large tranquiliser pistol—their impromptu leash on Feyris—but seemed to fade into the background nonetheless, hanging her head just enough to make her expression all but unreadable.

The girl raised her weapon meaningfully, to the relief of all, and the food was promptly—but not equally—distributed.

'Okabe,' Feyris enquired, geniality now entirely discarded, 'I have not tried to escape, I have not tried to injure any of you and I have restricted any attempts at psychological warfare to mere factual statements rather than, say, threatening to have you _dismantled piece by screaming piece_. Given the circumstances, I truly have been a model prisoner. So pray tell me, why is it I'm being denied food?'

Okabe shrugged. 'You can influence elements of your brainstem well enough to control pain, so I see no reason why you can't ignore hunger as well. Unlike us, or Eiri.' The reasoning was actually Kurisu's—likely true, and a secret acknowledgement of the debt she owed the girl for keeping Feyris away from her throat—but she hadn't been up for saying it to the woman's face.

'That's as may be, but just because I don't have to _feel_ hungry doesn't mean I'm not. Whatever you might think, this body,' she gestured to herself, 'is still all too human. As am I.'

'We've not forgotten who you are,' Okabe said, his eyes locked on hers and the chip that glimmered in their depths. 'Not for one single moment. But as much as we care for you, Feyris, our priority has to be getting out of here alive. So we have to allocate food. And if you do attempt any of those things you spoke of…' His knuckles were white, the fingers digging into his palms. 'Understand that at the end of the day, Operation Valkyrie only needs your brain.'

'Noted,' Feyris said coolly. 'Though if your plan is simply to march us all toward whatever fate awaits, we may as well make an early start. Puppet I may be, but I refuse to wind down like a discarded toy. Kurisu, hoist your esteemed leader. It's time to go.'

As Feyris marched off with her 'captors' hurrying behind, Kurisu and Okabe shot each other a conspiratorial glance.

'Pfft. Shows what she knows,' Kurisu smiled through her worry. 'I mean, what kind of man couldn't walk for miles on an infected leg without leaning on some girl's shoulder, huh?'

Okabe chuckled softly. 'Loath as I am to acknowledge anything Feyris has ever said as truth, I think I might prevail on my assistant just this once.'

'Just once? You mean, other than making me carry your baggage for miles to meet you? Or dumping the fate of humanity on my head when you couldn't figure out time travel? Or—'

'Must you always quibble? Other than that, yes.'

'Well, if it's _just this once_…' She pulled his arm over her shoulder, mirth fading as she felt almost all his weight resting on her. 'How bad is it? Truthfully?'

'Suffice it to say that without my assistant, this perambulation would be somewhat short lived,' he said, the clipped syllables betraying the effort it took to hobble after the others. 'And the pain is of a quality hitherto unknown to me—though a few pills with breakfast should keep me motile a little longer. I suspect the wound is gangrenous, or soon to become so.'

Nausea roiled in her belly. 'We really do need to hurry, then.'

His lips trembled as he smiled, but the devil-may-care light still burned in Okabe's eyes.

'We really do.'

* * *

A/N: This is not, in fact, a mega-chapter. But it_ is _properly edited and flows much more nicely now. The second half should be edited and up before the end of the week.

To the four of you who reviewed—it helps me a lot to know that I'm doing things vaguely right, so thank you very, very much! Anyone who does _not_ feel I'm doing things vaguely right, speak now or forever hold your peace!

TTFN

Deus


	11. Chapter 11

The sun blazed high in the sky, ribs of light parting the canopy above them and boiling the water in the earth into a heavy, humid mist. For the party of travellers, it was like struggling through a low-rent version of hell—sweat slicked their hair to their heads and their clothes clung to their bodies like jealous lovers, chafing in all the wrong places. For Kurisu and Okabe, forced into physical contact hour in and hour out, the heat was nothing short of torture; by the time they both gave into the inevitable and stripped off the heavy top of their coveralls, even Daru lacked the energy to snigger. Plus, blushing turned out to be excellent for heat loss.

By midday, the group had lost their battle against Gaia and were forced to take shelter in the lee of an overhanging rock. Okabe's eyes were half-closed as he struggled to stay upright, forcing her to surreptitiously grab him again just to keep him stable. It fooled no one. Worse, the humidity prevented sweating, so his fever had risen higher than ever. The rest of them were struggling too. Not even a drop of water remained in the flask and Kurisu's throat was dry despite the dampness in the air; when she ducked out of sight to check, her urine was a dark orange. Another problem to solve, and one that threatened to render all others moot.

Growling, she drew back her foot… and stopped herself just unleashing her frustrations on the arboreal life. It would be just her luck to break a toe and then—unable to walk—she really would die out here, a shrivelled corpse all that was left of everything she had been and aspired to be.

A throbbing sensation made her realise that she was clenching her teeth.

With a rustle and an inarticulate shriek, her foot plunged into a clump of green bamboo, the childish action snapping some and relieving just a little of the weight that threatened to crush her. She would have simply turned and headed back to the others, but something nagged at her: the cut bamboo was bleeding. Oozing a clear fluid that looked suspiciously like…

She took a broken one and put the torn stem to her lips.

It was disgusting; warm and with a bitter taste that betrayed the liquid's origins, but it flowed down her throat easily enough. Water! If it were not such a waste, she would have cried a little. Instead, she pulled on it, sucking in a mouthful of fluid before it went dry. Digging her fingernails into the other end and pulling the top off yielded another mouthful.

Tossing the waste aside, she practically sprinted back to the others. A sullen Daru was watching over Feyris, while Okabe leant against the smooth rock and Eiri seemed to have relaxed her inhibitions enough to doze in the shade.

'Psst. Did we bring a knife on this trip?' she hissed in Daru's ear, too low for Feyris to make out her words. Probably. That chip couldn't pull off something like that, could it?

Doubtless the man would have shrugged, but lethargy and the need to keep his aim steady turned the motion into a simple jerk of the head. The meaning remained obvious, however, and she was forced to search through all three rucksacks herself before finding the steel penknife nestled away in a corner.

Thus equipped, she headed back to the bamboo patch and hacked at another of the weakened ones until she could pull it away and check the insides. Sure enough, the interior was full of brackish water, forcing her to clamp her hand on the cut stem before the precious liquid drained away uselessly. Inconvenient, but still… she'd found water! All she needed now was a few of their flasks and they'd be set for days.

Having run back to camp, she explained as much to Daru. He actually cracked a smile, before wincing as a lone drop of sweat ran into his eye.

'We kept all the flagons in one bag, so that's golden, but there's no way you're cutting through fresh bamboo with those scrawny arms. Here, take this.' He handed her the tranq pistol while she was fuming and too wrongfooted to protest. 'Keep an eye on the maid and a'milking I will go.' A snicker and he was gone, too fast for her to say a word.

Leaving her with Feyris.

Kurisu looked into the face of her tormentor. 'Avoiding me?' Feyris asked, her lip curling. 'I thought I was going to have to contrive something.'

Kurisu stammered, but couldn't find anything to say. Her mind was caught in the same snarl as before … so many ways this could end, and not one of them was one she could bear to choose.

As though reading her thoughts straight from her eyes, Feyris sighed. 'So that's how it is. Well, I'll make this easier for you.'

No passion, not even cruelty.

'Twenty four hours, or I tell all.'

A psychologist dealing with a recalcitrant subject.

'And you know what'll happen to you if I do. So make your decision quickly, Makise Kurisu, lest I make it for you.'

Her heart clenched, seemingly pulling the blood from her head into a tight, hard ball of fear. The world faded and distorted as her head swam, with twin scalpel-steel orbs as the only constant.

_Thump Thump._

She was snared, and her trapper was reeling her in.

_Thump Thump._

_Thwuppa Thwappa Thwuppa._

_Thuppa-Thuppa-Thuppa-Thuppa-Thuppa-Thuppa-Thuppa-T huppa._

So caught was she that the truth didn't dawn on her until long after it should have. Those sounds weren't her heartbeat, they were far too loud for that. Moreover, they weren't from within so much as…

Above.

With newly cleared eyes, Kurisu saw Feyris' sudden aggression for what it was—a feint. She'd heard the helicopter before anyone else, hidden her cuffed hands behind her back and taken advantage of the moment to step out from under the shade of the rock and into the bright sunlight.

'Wha- what are you doing?'

Caught, Feyris' smile only widened. Her amusement was almost maternal, keeping a secret from a child too innocent to understand it. She twisted, a little, showing a glimpse of something clasped in those clever, dangerous fingers. As she had yesterday in the farmhouse, Kurisu took a step forward. And as then, a glint of light revealed an awful truth: a stolen sliver of silvered glass that took the light of the sun and threw it as a beacon upward into the heavens. Ready to call down the Organisation.

Feyris winked, and her lips pursed into a rosebud. 'Shhh…' Unspoken was the promise she had made before:

Say nothing. And everything will be okay.

This was it.

While the brain of a genius twisted itself in knots, her limbs acted on their own. An abortive step forwards, hands reached out to do something, anything.

_Shhhhhhhh…_

Kurisu caught herself. Frozen in utter paralysis as the helicopter quested overhead.

With a battle cry somewhere between a yell and a shout of pain, something tackled Feyris around the knees and she toppled. Still handcuffed, spitting like a monstrous feline, she managed to bring the glass shard across the face of her assailant, slicing a neat line through the flesh. He recoiled, and Feyris loosed a savage kick. It knocked him back, all the air in his lungs expelled in a strangled croak. A rib snapped.

Though all else was still, her lips screamed. 'Okabe!' And, finally, she flew forward.

Makise Kurisu wasn't a brawler. She couldn't throw a punch. Couldn't take one either. Couldn't even remember she had a gun in her hand. All she could do was hurl herself at Feyris and pray it was enough to stop her killing Okabe.

Her opponent was no ordinary combatant; rendered numb to pain and injury, capable of a manic strength that risked tearing muscle and tendon from bone. Also handcuffed, five-foot-nothing and forty kilos soaking wet. Kurisu's weight was enough to bowl her over, sending the two of them tumbling into a bush that collapsed around them with a _crack_ of snapping limbs. The shard of mirror dug into her thigh, the wound burning as Kurisu yelped in shock and confused hurt, lubricating it with slick crimson. Like soap in the tub, the glass slipped out of Feyris' fingers and fell into the undergrowth.

The woman squirmed underneath her, writhing like a boneless snake in her inexperienced grip. Only a primal instinct let Kurisu release Feyris' arm in time; the woman's teeth clicked shut where her hand had been. But now Kirusu was off balance and a mighty heave from Feyris was enough to roll them over. The last things she saw were white teeth drawn back from snarling lips as their owner impacted her with enough force to drive every thought from her head.

* * *

When she woke, the copter was gone, Feyris was unconscious with a blue-black mottle that ran from her eye to her split lip and Daru was nursing his bleeding knuckles.

The water flagons lay where they'd fallen. Kurisu's only achievement was no more than a moist patch of earth.

* * *

Think of it like a holiday, Okabe had said. After bullet wounds, gashes, infections, dehydration, blisters and an impromptu hike across nearly a hundred miles of Japan's forests, the bag of medical equipment she'd brought looked decidedly malnourished. But it was all she had, so she cut the last bit of bandage they possessed off the roll and did her best to knot it around her thigh … only for her hands to spasm uncontrollably as the material pressed against the wound. The pain was enough to elicit an undignified whimper, but she tried again and again, gritting her teeth.

It was useless. There was only one way this was going to work, and she knew it.

'Okabe?'

To her left, her companion turned to look vaguely in her direction. His eyes seemed to have lost focus, as though peering at distant forms glimpsed through a murky fog. They concentrated better after a few blinks, giving her a little courage.

'Put your hand here, she instructed as she held the bandage loosely against her thigh. 'A-and you better not say anything weird, okay? I'm just being practical here!'

It took a few moments for this to percolate through his brain. Finally, his lips twitched in the ghost of a smirk. '… … hah. Next time … buy me a drink first,' he said, before wincing as the motion pulled at the cut on his cheek. Though his voice was in as sorry a state as his smile, even the echo of their old bickering was like a balm; one she rather needed since he'd already used up all their painkillers.

Then he actually leant close, and any comfort she might have found in his presence was obliterated. He stank. Of sweat and dirt, yes, but mostly of rot—the same smell she remembered from pulling off an old plaster. A reminder of just how badly she'd fucked up.

Nothing to be done about it now, she told herself firmly. All she could do was learn from her mistakes, get herself patched up, and get him to Ka-whatever Base. A nagging voice told her that there was no way he was getting there in his condition; she locked it up and stuffed it in the box, along with the swift-chasing agony that made her fingers shiver and tremble as she tied a jerky knot and pulled it tight.

'Thanks,' she sighed, leaning back against the rock and letting her breaths slowly transition back from gulping air to something vaguely normal. 'And you can let go now. Really,' she added, when it became clear that he wasn't going to. Part of her was tempted to simply leave his hand there. In a time and place where everything seemed so complicated, the simple warmth of a human touch was almost irresistible. _And if things go badly, _a little voice said,_ this might be the last time—_

Into the box.

Oh. That's why he wasn't moving.

Okabe's eyes had fallen closed; his hand was limp when she took it in her grip. For a moment, she feared that— No. His chest still moved in shallow breaths, while her own was coming in sharp gasps as though a hand was reaching into her chest and yanking on it again and again. With a start, Kurisu realised she was close to tears.

There was something she had to do. Something she had to say to him before—.

'Okabe ... I … I did this. This is my fault, all of it.'

The words were the ones she'd never wanted to speak; pure undiluted truth. At first they had to be forced from her lips, syllable by syllable, but as she talked they began to flow of their own accord as though eager to escape their confines.

'I made the time machine. The design was mine. The construction was mine. The testing… mine. Because I didn't have the guts to say no, everybody suffered. You, Mayuri, Suzuha. Daru and Moeka and Ruka. Feyris and Eiri. I don't think there's a single person in the world whose life isn't worse because of me.'

Her grip on his hand had changed. Where once she had held it by the wrist, checking for a pulse, she now cradled it. Entwining his fingers with hers.

'And I can't even tell you this to your face. I'm … I'm scared, Okabe. Even though you said you trusted me… even though Daru lets me use his nickname again… I know that if you ever find out what I've done, you'll never forgive me. Well, I guess we'll see soon enough. Got to test those hypotheses, right?'

Okabe began to stir. It was fair; her speech was anything but lulling. Kurisu laughed bitterly. 'Honestly, I used to be scared you'd just shoot me when you found out, but right now I don't think we're going to survive long enough for it to be an issue. I just don't want to die with you hating me.'

'… … Kurisu?' His eyelids fluttered.

'Oh. Hey. Sleep well?'

'… … we aren't going to die.' He squeezed her hand with his. She hadn't realised she was still holding it. Honestly, his grip was too weak to call it a squeeze, but the gesture made her smile slightly less forced.

'You caught that, huh?'

'… … a bit. The rest?'

Her lips trembled. Perhaps loosing her secrets once had eased their passage. But the price of that catharsis was higher than she could bear to pay and so she did the only thing she could:

Kurisu pressed her lips to his, and drowned her secrets with the taste of salt.

* * *

When Kurisu woke the following day, it was obvious that Okabe wouldn't be walking anywhere. Twisting and turning, his hair matted down with sweat and his face contorted in suffering, he remained deaf to anything beyond his own agony. Any attempts to wake him produced mere instants of lucidity, and frequently not even that.

The rest of them were little better. Eiri remained as blank as ever, but Kurisu had seen her remove her boots last night and the mass of blisters beneath; today, the girl moved with a slight but noticeable limp. Daru was moody, irritable from hunger and threw dark looks at her as Okabe's condition declined. Kurisu herself felt an aching, snarling void where her stomach had been and found herself reminiscing even about stale bread. Her thick, rasping tongue had begun to pick up a sweet taste in her mouth: ketosis, as her body dug into its emergency supplies… even some of her muscle mass had been sacrificed after two days with no more than the smallest scraps of nourishment. Every now and then a wave of dizziness would sweep over her, suggesting the onset of serious dehydration.

Only Feyris seemed unaffected. Doubtless she felt her time was running out, though, because she'd given up any hint of subtlety—her eyes followed Kurisu constantly and every time the two made eye contact Feyris would glance meaningfully at her own wrist, where a watch would normally lie. Only around Daru did she feign passivity, as she did now.

'Shit, this isn't going to work,' Daru muttered as he made another attempt to wake his friend. A futile gesture as his reluctance to harm Okabe further meant he treated him like a porcelain doll.

'Fine. We'll do it another way,' he continued. 'Makise, make yourself useful for once and take all the food and water stuff out of the rucksacks. Dump everything except the compass and whatever you haven't wasted from the med kit, shove what's left in a bag.'

What?! How were they supposed to get more supplies if they had nothing to carry them in? She opened her mouth to argue but Daru cut her off. 'Don't. _Don't._ Listening to you has basically screwed us over pretty well so far and I'm not doing it any more. Just… just do what I tell you to and we might not actually _die_ here, got it?'

Water-starved blood flowed sluggishly to her cheeks, flaming at the brutal reprimand, before she shot him an incendiary glare and stomped off to burn their bridges.

* * *

The sun was still climbing to its zenith, yet it felt like they'd been walking forever. Up ahead, Daru struggled onwards with Okabe slung over his shoulders. His footsteps were heavier than they should be, and he stooped with the weight.

Kurisu trudged dutifully after Feyris. Or was that the other way round? The jailor and the jailed. The caught and the captor. She wasn't sure who was who anymore. But the gun was in _her_ hand, which counted for something.

Eiri was walking… who knew? Behind them? Probably. What did it matter where the girl chose to die?

* * *

_Hot. Empty stomach. Dry mouth. Sore legs. Blisters. Want to sleep now, please._

Into the box with you.

* * *

The light is gone.

* * *

The four of them marched long into the night before even Daru had to admit they needed sleep. It was risky—they'd pushed themselves to the limit. The chances that they'd wake and be unable to continue, like Okabe, were non zero but more than balanced by the extra distance they'd make from being rested.

The logic was impeccable, but all Kurisu could think about was the chance to _stop walking_ and sleep for a while. So, because the world hated her, she got first watch. Eiri had dropped like a stone the moment she'd removed her pack and Daru was implacable—no argument could be made. She didn't bother.

Nor was she the least bit surprised when, after ten minutes or so waiting for Daru to fall asleep, Feyris said simply, 'Kurisu. It's time.'

A couple of days ago, hearing that from her would have sent Kurisu into some sort of nervous fit—paroxysms of guilt and fear. Now she just sighed. 'It's rather past time, don't you think? The only one in any state to hear my secret is me.'

The woman inclined her head. 'Maybe I did give you too many chances. Would you have freed me if I'd pushed you a little harder?'

'I don't know. I never did make up my mind. But I won't do it now—at least then I can die with something resembling dignity.'

Feyris hummed in a non-committal sort of way.

'You don't seem too upset,' Kurisu said, after a few moments of silence.

'I took out the Valkyrie's leadership. I've served my purpose. But I'd still quite like to live, you know, so won't you consider my offer one more time?'

Kurisu sighed, fighting back the need to sleep. A few darts were left in the gun; it would probably be worth using one just to get Feyris to slumber through the night. Her thoughts mostly thus occupied, she corrected Feyris somewhat absently. 'I told you I'm not doing it. Anyway, you've pretty much lost all your leverage, so there's really no reason I should.'

'Oh? Haven't you forgotten something?' Feyris asked slyly. 'I didn't _just_ threaten you. It's not as though _Okarin_ has to die here anymore than we do.'

The reminder really shouldn't have startled her as much as it did. Truth was, she _had_ forgotten, or tried to… How could she not? Fear had kept her trapped, balanced on the knife edge between suicidal nobility and doomed pragmatism, but hope was all too enticing.

'You're trying to get to me through Okabe?' Her lips twisted in tired amusement. 'Am I that obvious?'

'Yes. Of course, he's no better.'

With anyone else, she thought idly, this conversation would be incredibly awkward. She'd blush, and stammer denials (if only because part of her liked having people ask). But she was too tired, and Feyris knew her right down to the deep and murky depths. Even with so much on the line, this was almost … comfortable.

Perhaps it was the dehydration talking, but it seemed to Kurisu that she and Feyris could have been very good friends.

Of course, the chipped woman was doing it on purpose.

Feyris spoke again, bringing her attention back to reality. 'The key's in the bag that we kept. I saw Daru slipping it in.'

'Yeah, and if I used it I'd be betraying everyone. Okabe, Daru, Suzuha—.' She caught herself before she mentioned a name Feyris didn't already know. 'Everyone else I've hurt, or let the Organisation hurt.' She looked Feyris in the eye. It was too dark to see a chip, but she fancied she saw the glimmer there. 'Even you. I can't. I-I won't.'

'You will.'

'But—'

'He's the head of the Valkyrie, isn't he? I suspected even before Iida, you know. Okabe started acting so oddly before I was kidnapped… Then brainwashing, time travel, 'Operation Valkyrie'… it was just like one of his fantasies come to life, although I don't suppose this is quite how he imagined it. So if he dies here, the war is over anyway. You aren't betraying anyone.'

Just failing them, Kurisu thought bitterly.

'And the other reason is this,' Feyris said, a clinical note reemerging as the velvet glove wore through to the steel beneath. 'Because all of those people you talk about—all six billion of them—don't mean a thing to you and you know it.'

Kurisu felt sick.

'That's not true,' she said, very quietly. 'I care. It's my fault, I have to redeem myself, _I have to save them!'_

'Oh? I've watched you so carefully over the last few days, Kurisu. Remember the farmhouse? Your face … I saw horror there, and sorrow; raw and fresh. You think you could feel that for six billion people? Try, if you can. See if your psyche can take it.'

A muscle throbbed in Kurisu's jaw as she ground her teeth together. 'I can't. You know I can't. But I still care, because I'm not a monster like you!'

Feyris tilted her head to the clearing where the others slumbered, white teeth flashing in the moonlight. 'More than you care about them?'

_Thirteen years._

_Kept in a cell, alone and afraid. What little words were conveyed to her from her masters only caused her suffering: reminding her of the consequences of disobedience or expressing a satisfaction that heaped remorse atop her shoulders. To be taken from that, to laugh and be laughed at, to speak and be spoken to… It was no wonder she'd felt the sting of betrayal so deeply in Iida, nor that she'd fallen for him so far and so fast._

Kurisu turned away, knowing that her shame was written on her face.

After a long moment, she felt Feyris behind her. 'We rarely feel the things we should,' the woman whispered in her ear. 'And love of all kinds tends to make us weaker in that respect. It's nothing to be ashamed of.'

Kurisu nodded miserably.

'Will you release me, then? I kept another mirror. I'll save them, I promise.'

Another nod.

'Atta girl. The key's in the bag, remember?'

So that was it, she thought as she reentered the clearing. All that resolve, all that resolution and this is the person that Makise Kurisu turns out to be. Well, now you know.

Laid on soft leaves beneath a tree, an unconscious Okabe writhed. They were out of pills, and the agony of his wound and her botched field surgery was enough to reach him even in the depths of unconsciousness. Kurisu watched, feeling oddly detached. None of it would matter once she freed Feyris.

Was this how Hououin Kyouma felt all along?

She remembered the passion in his eyes, the despair. No, it wasn't. Proof, as if it were needed, that he was better than her by far.

Daru and Eiri were utterly still, and fast asleep, with the bag lying close to the former. Perhaps her newfound detachment from this world went both ways, for not a single twig cracked nor leaf rustled as she made her way across to where Daru slept. She slipped her right hand into the bag, careful not to let anything rustle or clink, and found the keys in one of the bottom corners.

A hand like a manacle closed around her upper arm. Daru's eyes were open.

'I _knew_ it.'

* * *

A/N: Well, ladies and gentlemen, here we go. I hope it was worth the buildup.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far! And, Anonymous? _This_ is how you abuse a cliffhanger ;)

TTFN

Deus

* * *

IMPORTANT POSTSCRIPT: I edit and redraft personally before you guys get these, of course, but is anyone interested in pre-reading a chapter or two? Please PM me if so; I'm sure a second pair of eyes would do wonders for this thing.

Advice on pacing or from anyone with personal experience of Japan would be especially appreciated.


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